


A Dedicated Butler

by checkem89



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Cuckolding, Difficult Labor, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Nothing to do but screw, Porn With Plot, Pregnancy, Shameless Smut, carson you are the daddy, maury moment, staff abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-01-29 21:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21417067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkem89/pseuds/checkem89
Summary: Ever wonder why Charles favored Mary over the other Crawley daughters? Nobody knows that Robert is impotent and Charles, the ever dedicated butler, always makes sure his employers want for nothing.
Relationships: Charles Carson/Cora Crawley, Charles Carson/Elsie Hughes, Charles Carson/Robert Crawley, Cora Crawley/Robert Crawley
Comments: 25
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first bit of creative writing ever - and yes, I am a weird hornball 😆. Please let me know if this is a love or a hate.

“There we are, all shut up nice and tight” Carson said aloud to himself as he closed the last window ensuring the house would stay as warm as possible throughout the night. Another day had ended at Downton and it was end of day duties for Carson as the rest of the staff relaxed in the servant’s hall. Now that every window was closed and every door locked, Charles had just one more duty to see to before he could retire for the night.

While he climbed the steps of the abbey Charles reflected on how much he enjoyed his job working for Lord and Lady Grantham. As butler he had climbed the ranks all the way to the top and he believed himself to be one of the best England’s esteemed households had to offer. Coming out of his thoughts as he faced the large oak door, he rapped twice on it and waited for permission to enter.

“Oh good, you’re here Carson. I was starting to wonder if you had already gone to bed at this late hour.” Said Cora from her bed as he walked into her ladyship bedroom and closed the door behind him.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting milady.” He replied dutifully.

It was a closely kept secret that Lord Robert would never be able to produce an heir of his own body, not even his own mother the Dowager Countess knew of this -but images were everything and Charles would do whatever was needed to help maintain Downton’s pristine identity.

Robert barely looks up from his reading as Charles unlaced his shoes and placed them neatly against the floorboard.

“Carson, please be sure to purchase more of whatever it was that we were drinking in the library following supper. I found it a positively delightful way to end a heavy meal.”

“Of course. I shall order more ginger wine tomorrow morning for you milord.” Charles replied as he continued divesting himself of his livery, folding everything just so and placing it on a chair in the corner.

Once he was down to his drawers, he made his way to her ladyship’s bed. “I have had such a tiring day, Carson. The Dowager is getting rather impatient waiting for news of an heir.” Her ladyship said warmly as she pulled back the blankets with a rather coy smile. “Then I guess I shall have to get on with my ‘extra duties’ milady. It wouldn't do to disappoint his lordships mother on top of the people in the village.” Charles replied offering small grin that bordered more on duty than that of pleasure.

Sitting on the end of the bed Charles began to prepare her ladyship. Carefully he raised the hemline of her nightgown barely touching the silky soft skin of her thighs. Cora sighed, closed her eyes and relaxed into her pillow. This is _exactly_ what she needed after a stressful day she thought as she raised her hips and back so Carson could fully remove her nightgown. He knows how she loves to be fully nude and cared for on nights like these.

He starts with a small kiss on the back of her hand then her fingertips. He works his way from the palm of her hand up her arm and to her mouth making his kisses a little more hungry as they reach their destination. A slightly blushed Cora eagerly awaits him and quickly pulls his lips to hers as she caresses his lightly stubbled cheeks.

Charles places his hands on Cora’s hips as he kisses his way down her neck and collar, secretly enjoying the curvy feel of womanly flesh that is warm under his palms. He takes one breast in his mouth and sucks on it making her ladyship gasp and grab at his hair. Charles rolls the pert little nub gently between his teeth before swirling his soothing tongue around it. He brings his hand to the other breast where he gently kneads before switching between the two. A moan escapes from her ladyship and a smile plays across his mouth that he is sure she can feel, he bets other butlers are unable to bring this sort of pleasure to their masters.

Soon enough Cora pushes gently down on Carson’s head; pushing him down her body where his mouth is needed elsewhere. He quickly kisses his way down her flat stomach,which will soon be large with child if they are fortunate. Just as he reaches the top of her curls he looks up at Lady Grantham’s face and makes eye contact as he brings his mouth to her most sensitive spot. “Oh fuck!” she cries clutching the bedsheets causing Robert to give her a sideways glance before resuming his book. Charles prevents another smile from appearing on his face as his tongue and fingers work together to make her ladyship writhe about the bed. Moving his tongue about in different directions and curling his fingers inside her ladyships sex -it may have been an embarrassing book* to read, but he knew he was well on his way to producing the finest heir the Crawley family would ever have.

“Carson… Now.. Please… Need… I can’t…” The words fell incoherently from Cora’s lips as she panted with need. Charles stood and dropped his drawers releasing his cock from its cotton prison. Nothing was particularly special about his penis he felt. A little larger than the average fellow perhaps at not quite 7 inches, but his cock stood hard and proud from his body with a slight upward curve. Charles had been sure to work a touch of pomade and cologne into pubic hair to make his member extra presentable to his lady. After all, it made perfect sense to Charles that all his hair should be parted in the same direction. Now between her knees he closed his eyes and focused as he slowly inserted himself into her ladyship’s slick cavern listening to the screams of delight. “OH GOD YES!” Cora cried locking her legs around the waist of her butler and clawing her nails across his back. Charles opened his eyes and began to pump his hips in a steady beat. “Harder” Cora gasped as Carson picked up the pace and clenched his cheeks together so his cock hit that special area deep inside. He continued to pound away at her petit frame, watching the way his cock disappeared into her body. Her ladyship was thrashing about under his body causing much irritation to her husband lying next to her, just wanting for them to finish so he could close his book and turn out the lights. “Would you two hurry it up already? I must be up early tomorrow to gather Mama so we can catch the morning train into London.” Spat Robert. As if on command Charles felt her ladyship’s muscles grip his cock causing his own member to spurt his seed deep into her womb.

Charles rested on his forearms a moment waiting for his breathing to return to normal. Once both he and her ladyship had calmed down, Charles removed himself and once again donned his drawers. He then made his way to the armoire, grabbed a clean flannel from it and wet it in the wash basin standing beside the window. Charles returned to her ladyship and cleaned his seed from her sex making sure that once he was finished her curls were neatly groomed before he closed her legs and pulled the covers over her sated form. “Thank you, Carson.” she said sleepily “We are incredibly lucky to have a member of the household as devoted as you.” “As always, milady.” Charles replied with a slight nod.

“Finally!” his lordship sighed closing his book and placing it on his bedside table. “Let’s hope this turns out to be a boy, I should love to have someone to name after my father. Carson, turn out the lights when you leave... And please don’t forget about the wine tomorrow while I am away.” “Of course, milord.” Charles replied as he quickly donned his clothing and made his exit.

Charles walked back to his quarters feeling completely satisfied with himself. Another day had gone by and he and his staff had done everything to perfection. He truly was a dedicated butler. Perhaps the greatest butler the world had ever seen he smirked to himself. Once in his room Charles undressed again and climbed into his bed. Today’s success was today’s success and he would need all the stamina he can get when he does it all again tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what I originally thought was a one-shot story has morphed into two chapters. Not sure if I'll get to three.

Charles paced nervously in his pantry. It had been a month since Lord Grantham had decided it was time to produce an heir and now Doctor Clarkson was upstairs examining her ladyship. Charles hoped he had done well enough. As much as he enjoyed being a butler (and he had to admit to himself that producing an heir was his favorite duty to see to) the countess had been milking him dry.  
Her desires had grown bolder and more frequent as of late and Charles had feared they would be caught by members of the staff in a very compromising position. There had been so many, he reflected to himself with an inward grin.

“The new paint in the bedroom still smells something dreadful and I’m afraid the bed in Robert’s dressing room will not accommodate all three of us. I think it’s best if we move tonight’s session to your bedroom Carson.” She had said to him one evening. “  
My bedroom?!” he replied in shock.  
“Yes, Carson. That won’t be a problem, will it?” she asked.  
“Of course not, milady.”

Charles had been grateful for the large party they had hosted the previous evening as it had resulted in most of the staff heading out this evening for a night of fun from which they had not yet returned. The house was silent as they crept up to the servant’s quarters and past the door to the men’s bedrooms. He had just closed and latched the door to his sparsely decorated bedroom when he heard the sound of voices and the slam of a door; the rest of the Downton staff had returned and here he was with the lady of the house in his bedroom. Charles paled and began to sweat. Suddenly her ladyship appeared by his side, startling him, and pressed a finger to his lips before he could yelp.  
“Looks like our little escapade just got a whole lot riskier.” she said with a wicked smile.  
Charles groaned his response as his cock began to stir in his trousers. He quickly flicked off the light so no one could see the extra pair of feet hidden behind his door and opened the curtains. The moonlight bathed his bed in a low light that did more than enough to create a mood for what they had to do. Cora sat on the end of his bed to remove her heeled boots and it creaked horribly.  
“This will never do.” Her ladyship said as if she were reading Charles’ mind.  
“Agreed, milady.” He replied and pondered a moment. “The floor is far too undignified and my chair, while sound, would require you to do all the work… which is unacceptable of course.”  
“Well then,” Her ladyship said with a saucy tone as she closed the small distance between the two of them “it looks like we have only one option left. Carson, I’ll need you to take me against the wall.”

Charles opened his mouth to protest - she was a Countess, not some back-alley whore that could be purchased for a few minutes of her time- but before he could get a word out she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with the most intense vigor he had ever felt. Her lips muffled the shock that came from his mouth as he stumbled back into the wall that separated his room from Mr. Barrow’s. The last thing he needed was for Thomas to know of what, or rather who, he was doing at night. Charles backed off the wall and Cora wrapped her legs around his waist. She groaned when she felt his cock spring to attention at the gesture and Charles was sure someone was near enough to hear her. He awkwardly moved them towards the stone wall that faced the outside. “Milady, if we wish to complete our…. activities tonight without drawing attention to ourselves…” His sentence trailed off with a fearful glance towards the door.  
“Perhaps it would be best to speed up this process then. We are both more than ready.” Cora said as she tried to grind against his manhood, achieving her goal of making him moan even louder than she had. With that logic Charles put her down and began removing his tie and undoing the buttons of his shirt.  
“Don’t worry about fussing with that Carson. I won’t be ruined if you remove only your trousers tonight.” She then stepped out some of the laciest, most delicate knickers Charles had ever seen and pulled her dress up midway. “Do you require some help?” she smirked as he stood there, completely dumbstruck, watching her. And with that Charles immediately came to and undid his trousers so quickly that her ladyship giggled, making him feel like a teenage boy up to no good.

Charles placed his hands around her waist not knowing quite how they was going to achieve… relations. He lifted her up onto her toes and pinned her back against the rough wall, wrapping one of her legs around him before lowering her down onto his member. He couldn’t help it as his body shuddered with excitement at this new position, or was it possibly her ladyship? He didn’t really care at the moment and began moving awkwardly. In and out, in and out. His strokes were shorter than when he had her in a bed, but she panted and moaned into his shoulder all the same. They worked in this position for what seemed to be ages with him grunting and thrusting against her, and Cora with half-lidded eyes looking so close to completion.  
“Ugh!” she complained “I think we need to try something different. Let me down Carson.”

He dejectedly complied and followed her gaze to his armchair. “Milady…” he began to protest, but she had already draped herself over the arm so she was resting her elbows on the seat cushion and her bum was in the air. She pulled her dress up again.  
“This should work better for the both of us, don’t you think?” Charles’s mouth went dry and hungrily nodded his response. He shuffled over with his trousers still around his ankles and nearly ended the night right then as he slid back in. Oh, if only Charles had known she felt even tighter in this position earlier. “Ohhhh…. YES! mmmm” That was the loudest he had heard her ladyship ever since she came to Downton - and it was he, Charles Carson the butler, who made her lose composure. Though he waggled his eyebrows at the thought, he froze at the sound of heavy footsteps. They stayed in that very position not even daring to breathe as the shadow of the footsteps stopped just outside his door, paused for a few moments then walked away. Cora looked back at Charles with a mixture of relief and giddiness on her face which he returned. He opened his mouth with another warning about remaining silent when her ladyship began rocking against his shaft. Whatever words he had had were lost and Charles dug his nails into her hips and began slamming her into him as hard as he could. Their juices were flowing down and around his member, he was certain they were dripping onto the floor. Cora’s face had never been redder, and her breathing was so irregular it only pushed him further. He leaned forward and in voice low and gravelly with lust he whispered, “Tell me you love it.”  
“Charles I love your cock. God how you fill every inch of me. So thick. I don’t think I could ever…”  
Charles gave a mighty grunt and stiffened as his cock pulsed and he came more than he thought humanly possible.

He collapsed onto Cora, every inch of his body exhausted from lovemaking and waiting for the calm to take them once again. When he finally did pull himself off her it was obvious to see they were both sticky with cooled sweat. With shaky legs he went to clean their mess, per usual.

“Forget about that tonight.” Cora told him as she retrieved her knickers and slid them up her silky legs. “It’s late and it sounds as if the rest of the servants have already gone to bed. I will be fine making my way to back to bed and you deserve some sleep. Besides, if I do run into anyone I can always make up an emergency.”

Charles was too exhausted to disagree. Instead he insisted on being the one to check and see if the coast was clear for her to leave undetected. He then stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed naked into bed with his cock still sticky from her fluid. Somewhere in the back of his mind as he drifted off to sleep it registered that she had called him by his Christian name, and he had begun thinking of her as Cora.


	3. Chapter 3

A bell had rung requesting attention in the Great Hall and Charles hustled back up the stairs from the Servants Hall. Who on earth could be needing help now? He wondered to himself. His lordship had left mere moments ago to host a hunt for a group of middle-class men important to the Crawley family -lawyers, accountants and such. He looked into the mirror and brushed an errant lock of hair back into place before finally pushing through the door. Still in her hunting outfit watching her husband trot off into the woods stood Cora. It had been a little over 4 months since Dr. Clarkson had visited and determined her ladyship was pregnant. 

His lordship had been overjoyed “A strong son to follow in my footsteps. I can feel it.” He had said, clapping Charles on the back at the announcement. Later that evening during his final rounds Lord Grantham had quietly thanked Charles for ‘attending to Lady Grantham’ and ‘ensuring the continuance of the Crawley line’. As such, it had been a little over 4 months since Charles was no longer needed in the Crawley’s bedroom.

“Is anything the matter milady? O’Brien should be helping you change into your day dress. I can fetch her for you at once.” He offered through gritted teeth. Charles hated having to remind his staff of their responsibilities, but Cora had been fond of the young maid so he would have to deal with her. Though she was starting to grow large with child Cora had dressed in her riding outfit and even carried a riding crop at her side to greet and send off the men as expected. “No, that is quite alright, I told O’Brien I wouldn’t be changing again till dinner. I’d much rather receive Robert and the men as is than exhaust myself on the stairs again.” Cora assured him “However, I have been feeling quite tense lately. I think I’ll take tea in the drawing room.” “As you wish milady.” And Charles made his way back down to the kitchen with an order for the kitchen maids.

“Oh Charles” She wept into her cup “I thought I could handle a situation like such. 23, living in England, pregnant with the future earl, and in love with an affectionless husband. Who could have known the first year of marriage could have been so tough? I have never felt so alone in my entire life.” Charles hesitated from his place against the wall. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and let her know he would be her friend in this world even if her husband wouldn’t. Cora laid her teacup down on the table and wrapped herself in her arms as if to hug herself. Charles’s mind began to race. No butler’s manual came with instructions on soothing a pregnant Countess distraught at her own life. Before he could say anything, Cora moved her hands to her back. “I swear this child is already killing me. I know it would be highly improper, but could I trouble you for a quick massage?” Cora asked with a shy look on her face. Charles was flabbergasted “It would be most highly improper!” he almost shouted at her. “What if a maid or a hall boy were to walk in and see that? What would happen if the hunters came back early? Lord Grantham would rightfully kill me for my laying hands upon you in such a way with all his men around to see.” Charles had lived life on the edge enough sneaking about trying to get her pregnant, thank you very much. To lay his trembling hands on her in a sensual way when his job was already done would be treasonous. “Please, Charles.” she begged him “I’m dying for relief and doctor told me I must be comfortable at all times to birth a healthy child.” Charles glanced around nervously. Half of the staff was busy cleaning up outside after this morning’s breakfast gathering and the other half would be busy preparing for their return around luncheon. 

Charles sighed and quickly shut the doors to the drawing room. No one had any reason to be near the area, but a closed door would keep them safer from prying eyes regardless. Cora moved from the settee to the rather large chaise, delighted that her butler was acquiescing to her rather indecent proposal. “It’s my lower back that hurts the most.” She informed him. And so, Charles knelt on one knee behind her and began rubbing in awkward circles, feeling her relax deliciously under his touch. Oh, how he had been craving more since he had been cut off months ago. “This isn’t right.” She said with an exasperated sigh. Your darn right this isn’t right - Charles thought to himself. “Come around and sit behind me.” He froze. “Wha… sit with… but… the furniture… huh?” he sputtered out confusedly. “Yes, sit behind me. We are already this deep and if we do get caught, I’ll take the blame. After all, women in my situation are allowed to be fickle.” She teased. He hesitantly rose and took the offered place -as a servant it was forbidden to rest upon the family’s furniture. This time she took his large hands and guided him so he was practically palming the width of her back. “Put pressure on your thumbs and fingertips and rub them up and down.” She said. Her reaction was instant. Cora immediately melted against his form and let her head loll about over his shoulder giving Charles a nose full of the scent of her shampoo -light and flowery, perfect for a lady - and a rather salacious view of her breasts. “mmm… oh yes… just perfect.” She mewled against him and he gulped as he felt a stirring in his trousers. Please, not now. Don’t embarrass yourself here. He thought. “You know Charles,” she said through closed eyes “I feel as if I have been rather spoilt by you in the past.” “Oh?” Came his cautious reply. Thrice now she has used his Christian name. “Yes, I’m afraid Robert is not quite as… attentive as you are, and he leaves me rather wanting at night.” Charles continued his ministrations silently chuffed with pride at the confession. 

Charles had been so distracted watching the rise and fall of her breasts that he barely noticed Cora opening her eyes to look at him. “You didn’t hate what we did, did you?” she asked with flushed cheeks. Warmth and lust were practically radiating off her now. “No” and damn it all he had to take a huge risk here “I more than enjoyed being with you every night… Cora.” He dropped his voice low and her name he barely whispered with breath hot on her ear that caused her to shiver. She continued gazing deep into his eyes as if waiting for more. “I crave you every night when I take myself in hand. I don’t think I can give you up as easily as I thought.” Still nothing came from her lips. Instead, she turned her head and brought up a warm hand to caress his cheek. Their lips met and it was as if a raging fire had been lit that neither of them could fight. Charles groped her breasts through her riding ensemble -had they gotten bigger? He had to find out. As he moved his hands to the top button, she stopped him. “It took O’Brien and two other maids to squeeze me into my clothes. I don’t think it wise to remove unless you are willing to explain to them why I was found naked in a room with only the butler around.” No, he would not like to excuse his way out of that situation. 

Ever the problem solver, Cora pressed Charles so he laid against the back of the chaise and began working on the buttons of his waistcoat then shirt. She ran her fingers through his fine mass of dark chest hair peeking out from under his vest feeling every inch of his lightly muscled chest and flat stomach. Her fingers danced delicately all the way down to his trousers where his erection was quite evident. “It’s nice to see a man arise when a lady is near” Cora said making both of them laugh. The tension in the room had been thick and it had been nice to lighten the mood if only for a minute. He closed his eyes and groaned as she rubbed him through the pinstriped fabric. One button came undone, then two, three and four soon followed and the front panel of his trousers practically few back as his erection sprang free from its hot, woolen hell. Her small hand wrapped around his cock making him look massive in comparison and his hips jerked at it all. She stroked him feeling every vein, amazed at the whitish liquid oozing out the tip. Charles was now bathed in sweat and was bucking his hips wildly.

Charles only regained his composure when she stopped to stand. He was about to plead for her resumption when Cora began gathering her skirt in her hands -another thing he noticed in her hand was the riding crop. Only when her skirt was high enough that he could see her soft nest of curls did she straddle him on the chaise and slowly sink down onto him. Her warm, wet flesh gripped him as if it were her first time and all the longing between them came to an end. Cora steadied herself by placing her hands on his solid chest and Charles stroked the bare flesh of her thigh. She bounced up and down on him looking happier than a child who had been let loose in the candy shop. 

Charles stroked her belly through the cloth. Everyone assumed Baby Crawley would be born a strapping boy, but Charles would not have minded one bit if he had helped bring a lovely little girl into this world.

*SMACK* came the riding crop snapping him out of his thoughts. *SMACK* The crop bit into the small patch of tender flesh on his rear where her legs hadn’t been. It was queer that even though the crop and stung, it had only turned him on more. “Hit me again.” *SMACK* This time Cora brought the crop down onto his chest and he groaned in pleasure.

Several more smacks and they still weren’t done, yet Cora began to tire too much to continue ‘riding her pony’ so to speak. Unwilling to let their newfound closeness end in disappointment, Charles did the only thing he could. Minding baby, he took a firm hold of her hips, bent his knees and planted his feet firmly on the chaise. With all his might he trust up and watched Cora’s surprise squeal as she was propelled into the air. Again he thrust hard and watched his lady enjoy the ride. Lord how he loved watch her unfold as he buried his cock into the wetness between her thighs. She shuddered and he felt her clench around him, the now familiar wave of wetness flowed down and around his cock. He was still rock hard inside her as she came down and rested on his chest limp from ecstasy. Charles gathered her up in her arms and leaned them forward till Cora was laid flat on her back with her hips arched high against him and Charles had his knees under her with his hands in a power stance on either side of her body. He pumped away at a pace that only seemed to get quicker and more erratic. Cora’s breast were bouncing up and down beneath her blouse and riding jacket and Charles still needed to see more of her. With one hand he undid the buttons of her jacket and proceeded to rip the buttons off her blouse and away from her belly. His hand grazed lovingly over the developing bump where his child was growing. Boy or girl, this child would be strong in its own way.

So enamored was he with the sight that he pulled back too far and slipped out of Cora. That was the moment when his balls tightened and he came with record force. Thick white goo shot out landing all over Cora’s sex and the chaise. Once again he gathered her up and leaned back relaxing against the soft couch. With her in his arms, snuggled against his chest they took time to bask in the afterglow.

Some thirty minutes later Charles roused Cora from her nap. “Your husband will be coming back soon. We need to look presentable.” Cora harrumphed at the notion but climbed off him none the less. Charles had stuffed himself back into his trousers and stood when the reality of their situation hit Cora. The bottom half of her blouse was missing several buttons that were now strewn about the carpet and there was white stain in the middle of the chaise that would be impossible for anyone to miss. “How on earth will I talk my way out of this.” Cora said, racking her brain for a passable excuse. Charles, who had finished buttoning his shirt and waist coat and was now working on his tie looked back at the settee where the now cold tea service lay. He picked up a scone topped with clotted cream and jam and casually mashed it into the stained chaise. Cora looked at him horrified, but Charles simply put on his best butler face and said “It appears baby, breakfast and tea were too much for that top to handle. I shall get O’Brien in here immediately to sort you out and some maids will clean up the mishap with the scone before the hunters return.”

With that Charles smoothed his hair and exited the drawing room as the proud butler of Downton Abbey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm kinda thinking maybe one more chapter (a non-smut chapter) to finish it off with Mary's birth. Do I even take it this far or is this beating a dead horse?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god this went on longer than I expected. A bit of solo action for Charles and Robert and Cora figure some things out.

Charles looked down at the tenting in his trousers and sighed as he thought back to his and Cora’s tryst in the Drawing Room. That was three weeks ago and life at Downton had been hectic since. He turned on the tap and threw the stopper in the servants bathtub once the water started to warm -a nice bath ought to help him relax. A slew of extended family including Lady Rosamund arrived for a visit following the hunt and the Dowager had spent most of her days and evenings at Downton as well.  
The cool November weather led to more drinking than normal from the upper class and Charles had felt more of a nanny than a butler keeping them all on clean and on their feet. He turned off the tap and lowered himself into the soothing hot water - Lady Flintshire had been particularly difficult to deal with. It was apparent the lady and her husband held no affection for each other from the moment they arrived and avoided the others company at all costs. Apparently, Lady Flintshire carried a vindictive nature that led to her flirting heavily with most of the male staff in front of her husband just to irritate the man. Everything from lingering touches to pinched bums and tonight she had the nerve to grab his manhood and whisper a seductive “Thank you Carson” into his ear after he poured her a fifth glass of port. Cora had been his saving grace pulling the Marchioness away to join her and Lady Rosamund in a game of bridge.  
Charles could feel the tension rising in his shoulders and decided it was best to stop and think of more pleasant subjects as he began to scrub the days sweat and dust off himself. He instead thought of Cora and her perfect smile that seemed to brighten when their eyes met. She had remained a perfect lady and hostess remaining about her wits the whole time.  
He silently wished to himself that she was his, that he could warm her bed every evening and have her in any room at any time of the day. He soaped his hand up well and began to clean his still hard cock as his mind raced through the things they would do to each other. He imagined it to be her small, delicate hand expertly rubbing his length making him look positively massive before surrounding him with her plump lips. Her tongue would dance around the head and into the slit before taking him deeper till she gagged on her mouthful of cock. The entire time she would be looking him in the eye making every inch of his body sweat with lust. He moved his hand quicker thinking of how she would accept and swallow his seed, savoring every drop as if it were her favorite meal in the world.  
In reality, Charles shot his seed into bathwater that was as dirty as he felt. He was sure she cared for him -very few lords and ladies treated their staff half as well as the Crawleys treated theirs- but they were of different worlds and she was married. Shame flooded Charles as he stood to drain the dirty water and ready himself for bed. She didn’t love him; she loved his body. At his heart he knew he was an adulterer who coveted the wife of a good man.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ugh” Cora flopped down on her bed. My feet hurt, my back hurts, I can’t remember a damn thing, I’m horny as hell and I’m only halfway through this pregnancy. For the first time since she was a child, Cora had hated going to bed. No matter how tired she felt, it had been impossible to fall asleep with Baby making it difficult to get comfortable. The loneliness of a cold bed didn’t exactly help either.  
She had just gotten settled under the covers when there was a small knock at her door. Her husband opened the door joining their rooms peeked his head around. “I thought I might make a go at being your husband again tonight?” he asked with a sheepish smile and waiting for permission. “Of course, dear. You never have to ask to join me in bed.” She replied with open arms. A grin immediately spread across Robert’s face as he closed the door to his dressing room and snuggled under the covers with his wife. He had been wearing her favorite blue silk pajamas that matched his eyes. In a way he looked more suave in those pajamas than he did in a dinner jacket.  
Robert hesitantly placed his hand on her swollen belly and looked at her checking to see if his actions were welcome. “I know we married for money, but I do not wish to be trapped in a loveless marriage if I can help it.” He said immediately casting his eyes down as if ashamed of what he was saying “I will always love this child regardless, but it would be nice to produce a child of my own body. It would please my father though he is not here to see it.”  
Cora had no reply, only gave him a sweet smile and locked her fingers with his over her tummy when suddenly…. “Was that a…?” “Did you feel..?” They spoked over each other with bated breath. Another little thump and sure enough Baby Crawley was kicking. While Cora sat in awe, overjoyed at the little sign of life, Robert had been so thrilled he ended somewhere between laughing and crying as he anxiously waited for another kick. One more small nudge and Robert had lost all sense of his English propriety with a small yelp of pride. “The baby is kicking! The baby is kicking! Did you feel it Cora?!” It was a rather silly question to ask, but she replied nonetheless not wanting to spoil the mood. “Yes, yes. I can’t believe our little soldier is already kicking.” With that she took advantage of one of the few genuine moments they had together and took his face in her hands for a kiss he enthusiastically returned.  
As he deepened their kiss a shaky hand moved from her tummy and reached up to her breast, barely cupping and brushing the pert nipple. Though she could barely feel it through her nightgown she faked a small moan to spur him on. She ran the fingers of her left hand through his hair before resting at the base of his scalp to gently massage the soft skin, her right lazily drew patterns across his back. His lips left hers and trailed a line of tender nips and kisses across her jaw, down her neck and clavicle. Robert pushed away the thin straps of her nightgown to reveal her pert breasts and immediately buried his face between the two, nuzzling the soft skin. Cora moved her hands to run up his pajama sleeves to feel the strong muscle covered in hair that was usually hidden from others behind layers of clothing. She relished the knowledge that she was one of the few who knew Robert Crawley was deceptively strong and burly beneath his suits. She was sure he could move mountains if he only believed himself to be strong enough.  
Before she knew what she was doing, Cora scooted down the bed bringing them back to eyelevel and began working on the golden buttons of his pajama shirt. So much muscle and hair, it was a feast for her eyes alone. She kissed his collar bone, wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him close to feel as much of him as possible. What she didn’t expect was to feel another hard muscle lower on him pushing into her. She looked up at her husband pleasantly surprised.  
“We’ve been here before Cora. You remember how things ended. It wasn’t a way a man leaves a woman.”  
“I do remember. I also remember Doctor Clarkson telling you some men change their outcome with enough practice.”  
“I shouldn’t count on it dearest. Perhaps we best end things here before we… get more involved.”  
“But Robert, you said you were going to try and be my husband tonight.”  
Robert hesitated a moment “I suppose I did.”  
Once again, Cora took Robert’s face in her hands for a kiss - sweet and delicate yet full of passion and pride. “Please don’t worry too much darling, things will work out eventually.” “I pray tonight you are correct.”  
With newfound confidence Cora pulled her nightgown over her head and threw it to the floor before pushing his pajama top off his shoulders and casting it to the floor. His bottoms needed something a little more special she decided. She pushed on his shoulder so he was now flat on his back beside her. If it wasn’t for Baby, Cora would have straddled his hips and licked her way down his chest and undone his drawstring with her teeth. Instead, she sucked his nipple and bit down gently on it while her fingers walked their way down his abdomen. She slid her hand beneath his pajama trousers and ran her hand along what she found there. He was a bit soft, but it harder than it had been in their previous encounters and was usable. Roberts body shuddered and he moaned under her touch. She pushed his pajamas down and watched his cock move with amusement while Robert kicked his pajamas the rest of the way off. She noted that Robert was not as long as Carson was, but what he lacked in length he made up for in girth. When they first married she wondered how he could fit without tearing her in half. She didn’t find out that evening and it was longer till they finally consummated their marriage. With his clothing now shed, Robert climbed on top of her and turned his attention to her tummy.  
“Will this be okay? …For Baby I mean?”  
“Baby will be fine Robert. We don’t need to stop for a few more months, just be gentle for now.”  
A quick breath and Robert slowly sank into her, closing his eyes as he felt the warm, wet heat envelope his cock. Cora felt her walls stretch further to the point where it hurt and she buried her face in her husbands shoulder so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Still, the delicious, full feeling consumed her as he stroked inside her. He kissed her shoulder and anywhere he could reach, trying to pull away to get to her mouth. She averted his gaze, wishing he would give up and focus on their union.  
“Cora, I need to see you. Look at me, please.”  
Cora brought her hands around his back and held on to his shoulders so she could discreetly wipe the excess water from her lashes. Still he froze when he saw the redness in her eyes.  
“My darling, I’ve hurt you.”  
“Robert, please move. It doesn’t hurt much and I need you so badly. Just keep moving and I will adjust, I promise.”  
“Still I’ve hurt you.” He said with a dejected look. And suddenly it was too late. Robert’s erection softened and he laid there limp inside his wife. “Father was right,” he choked and turned away from his wife “I am no man.”  
Cora said nothing for a moment, simply laid what she hoped was a soothing hand against his back wishing to share in his grief. She was his wife and she was bound to help him for the rest of their life, no matter what. Perhaps it was best to turn out the lights and try again tomorrow. As she settled in against her husband and tried to ignore the wet throbbing between her legs, Cora heard a faint sniffle. She couldn’t just lie there while her husband wallowed in self-pity. 

“You know Robert, real men never give up.” She spoke into the darkness.  
“What could I possibly do Cora? Don’t remind me that I am utterly useless in this state -to Downton and to you most of all.”  
“I wouldn’t consider you to be useless, Robert. Underutilized, perhaps.”  
Robert turned to face her with still misty eyes. “What do you mean underutilized?”  
“Well” she said locking their hands together again “you do have these big, strong hands that can make me tremble…. And a mouth that can be equally exciting too.”  
She kissed him and guided his hand down to her sex, showing him how to rub against the little nub down there. “I suppose it would be ungentlemanly of me to leave a lady wanting.” Cora moaned her agreement.  
He shifted down the bed to better see his wife now illuminated by moonlight. Robert experimentally pushed a digit inside her channel listening as her breathing became more heated and asked for more. He squeezed in a second finger and moved them in and out of her. “Curl your fingers along the top.” came her instructions and she mewled and writhed around him when he obeyed. Emboldened by her actions he placed his mouth over her swollen nub and viciously attacked it with his tongue. He swirled around it and sucked on it, even gave it the tenderest of nips -completely amazed that he could make his wife buck ferociously in their bed with just two fingers and his tongue. As her motions grew wilder Robert was forced to remove his fingers to hold down her bucking hips. She pled with him at the momentary loss until he took his tongue and gave her one long lick. “Christ!” Cora screamed, grabbing him by the hair and grinding her into his face. He lapped at the wetness flooding out of her and probed deep inside. A slew of incoherent expletives fell from her mouth as she came undone and he felt something in her tremor. He looked up into her eyes, keeping his mouth glued to her sex and he felt her walls squeeze around his tongue. Cora herself was practically vibrating with pleasure and professing her love for him between the babbling nonsense.  
By the time she stilled he was by her side again and was pulling her up to the pillows. He kissed her and she could taste her sweet juices still lingering on his lips. Utterly sated, rested her head on her husband’s chest and took in his scent as the moon slowly drifted past their window.  
“Darling, you’ll have to let me go for just a moment if we don’t wish to freeze by morning.”  
Cora murmured her agreement and opened her eyes despite not wanting to pull away from her warm husband. She looked down along his body and was a bit surprised to see his cock was heavy -she was not expecting him to be available twice in one evening. Cora gripped his length and stroked the velvety skin over the muscle hoping against hope it would grow bigger and stronger. Robert relaxed into her grip for a bit before stilling her motion. “I wish this night would end in fireworks for both of us, but I’m willing to settle for the one victory.” He gave her a swift yet sweet kiss on her nose and brow “We will fight this battle again soon enough. I promise you this.”  
On this promise they pulled the covers over themselves and snuggled as closely as two humans could possibly be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora is 5 months pregnant here, and yes, this chapter is too long. Not quite sure how I'm going to tie this up and how/if I bring Elsie into the house. Robert and Cora have to figure things out and Carson needs to get unattached (maybe?)

Cora woke early the next morning to the sun shining brightly onto her face and her husband draped protectively over her body. One arm lay beneath her pillow and wrapped around so his hand rested near her shoulder. His other hand laid over her belly possessively and his leg had wrapped around hers sometime during the night. Roberts cock had lodged itself firmly into her backside and it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling to wake up to. From what she could see of the clock across the room she still had a bit of time to do naughty things with her husband before O’Brien would come to rouse her for her trip to London.

She rubbed her bum against his cock trying to wake the rest of her husband who came to with a groan and pulled her even tighter against his form.

“If only I had known an American woman would try and kill me with pleasure, I might have married a less attractive English woman.” He said groggily and earned himself a playful slap on the arm.

“It’s not my fault you woke up ready to play Robert.” She retorted rubbing against him again and beamed inwardly as his hips bucked against her. “Why don’t you let me focus on you now and see what happens.” 

Robert hesitated and looked slightly embarrassed at what he was about to say. “I’m not sure if we will get different results. I’m afraid you woke me in the middle of a rather pleasant dream that got me to this state.”

“Oh?” She turned around to face him. This was the first time Robert had let her in on his fantasies and she was rather curious as to what he liked. “Care to share with your wife? Perhaps you could show me what it was.”

Robert appeared to mull it over a moment and opened his mouth to speak, only to immediately close it like a fish out of water. “Not today sweetheart, you’d find me rather deviant and I don’t wish to startle you -especially with Baby on the way.” She was a little more than hurt that Robert couldn’t trust her with this bit of information, but before she could protest, he changed the subject. “Speaking of Baby, are you sure you don’t wish me to accompany you to London today? You don’t know the streets well enough and I’m not sure about this new chap Dr. Clarkson is sending you to while he is away.” “No Robert, I will be just fine. It would be unfair cancel the council meeting scheduled today and I’m sure Dr. Clarkson wouldn’t send me to just anyone. If he hadn’t cared, he would have let his substitute care for me or sent me to the neighboring town. But if you really are that anxious, I could bring O’Brien with me in case I get tired.” “Make it Carson. You never know what might be going on in that city and I’ll only relax knowing you have a bit of muscle protecting you.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charles grumbled as he trudged his way through the servant’s hall and outside. He woke in a jolly enough mood only to have his days itinerary smashed to pieces. A footman had frantically banged down his door as he had finished shaving. The valet and head housemaid had eloped in the night leaving only a letter behind for explanation. Lord Grantham was already ringing to be dressed and O’Brien had informed him that he was to accompany her ladyship to London -as if that wouldn’t cause a scandal for the other lords and ladies in London. 

On the other hand, it would be nice to have an afternoon to relax in his day suit and contemplate how he would run the household till new staff were hired -he also had to address the fact that the housekeeper was getting rather old and would be retiring soon anyway. The carriage had already been pulled around to the driveway when he reached the front door and a footman was assisting her ladyship with her coat in the doorway. His lordship, who was in a rather pleasant mood this early in the morning, kissed his wife goodbye and handed her off to Charles, who then helped her into the carriage before climbing up next to the driver.

The ride to the train station and into London had been pretty uneventful -though he had blushed somewhat fiercely when they had arrived and he learned her ladyship was seeing a doctor specifically for women in her condition. He went into a small café next door for tea while he waited for her ladyship and decided that he would play valet until Lord Grantham found a suitable replacement. He would also insist on finding a younger housemaid who would be strong enough to take the reins when the housekeeper retired -that stubborn old bat always terrified the young maids and none of them would be able to lead in her absence.

He had been reading the newspaper when her ladyship walked through the door earlier than he expected. She brushed off his apologies assuring him nothing was amiss and she had simply breezed through her appointment without wait or hinderance. “Besides, the fog outside is so thick I doubt you’d be able to find me if I was more than a foot away from you. I think we best stay in for a bit and hope it clears up before we head to the station.”

She ordered tea, which he poured for her, and watched as she worked her way through four pain au chocolat. The café windows remained white with fog and they were left with no choice but to cut their way through to the station with Cora on his arm lest she slip and fall. Their journey had been for naught as the fog had reduced visibility enough that the trains had stopped running for the evening for safety reasons. 

“Well, it looks like we’re stranded.” She said with her American accent somehow more prominent than ever. “Come on Carson, let’s go find a nice place to stay before all the good ones get booked up.”   
He managed to hail a hansom cab through the mist and was rather grateful she insisted he share a cab with her instead of taking his own. It had taken him almost 40 minutes to get the one for her and these carriages only sat two with a lone seat on the back for the driver.

When they arrived at the hotel of her choice, he looked around the entry way taking in the ornate chandeliers, art and wallpaper – trying not to look too astonished by the flaunting of wealth – while her ladyship spoke with the concierge about obtaining a room for herself with an adjoining servants room. The bellhop led them past a large indoor fountain and up three long staircases that wove around it. Each landing had a sitting area filled with plush couches, small side tables, books and newspapers. The final landing also included a rather sizeable statue of St. George slaying the dragon that Charles was utterly fascinated by. The bellhop smiled as he let Cora into her room, showed her where things were and left her to settle and lie down on the bed. When the bellhop closed the door behind him, his face soured as he shoved a pair of keys into Charles’s hand “Enjoy your stay, rake.” and stalked back toward the staircase.

Charles stood there stunned at the man’s impertinence before letting himself into his room. His room was narrow with a single bed, a desk and a small private lavatory. The walls were painted light blue and darker blue curtain hung over the whited-out window. It was simple and sparse, but nicer than most servant’s quarters which usually held metal bunk beds in a stark white room with a communal servant’s lavatory down the hall. Charles threw his damp jacket over the radiator to dry and stewed over the bellhop’s words till suppertime. He wasn’t sure if it was the young man’s cheek that had irked him, or the fact that Charles knew there was a sliver of truth to them even if that wasn’t the case today.

He checked in with her ladyship before grabbing his coat and heading a couple blocks away to a pub for supper. The rowdy atmosphere did little to improve his mood, so he allowed himself the small indulgence of a scotch following his two ales and shepherd’s pie. He briefly thought of staying for another and finding a pretty young woman to comfort him, then decided against it. He never associated with ladies of the night and he wasn’t about to lower his standards just because lesser men did. His head was a bit fuzzy when he stood to leave, but he didn’t stagger out the door and he made his way back to the hotel without difficulty – save for a nasty sneer thrown by the bellboy passing on the stairs.

Charles barged into his room and slammed the door behind him with unexpected intensity. He sat at his desk in the darkness and looked at the door separating him and Cora. Perhaps he was mostly irritated that he wished the bellhops suspicions were truth. Secretly he wished she would come through, aching to run her hands along his body and savor every inch of him. To lose all sense of themselves and be one for the night. He buried his face in his hands. The drink was talking and though he was not tired, it might be best if he turned in early. 

His jacket was halfway down his arms when he heard a knock on the door that separated them… No, it couldn’t possibly be. Charles pulled his jacket back on and tried to focus his fuzzy head before opening the door dividing their rooms. He nearly choked on his own words when he saw her there in only her chemise in place of a nightgown.

“Wha… what can I do for you this evening, milady?” 

“I was wondering, if its not too much trouble that is, if I could talk to you about something… something of a more personal nature.”

Charles drew in a deep breath. Had his prayers been heard? Of course he really had no choice but to do what she wished. They had no business to attend to nor company to entertain, so he agreed and crossed the threshold into her room. As expected Cora’s room was grander than his, boasting cream and gold wallpaper, valence over embroidered curtains, a large bed filled with plush pillows, a small chandelier overhead and a small sitting room where she took dinner.

Instead of following her to the sitting room, Cora stopped in the middle of the bedroom and looked down at her feet while she spoke to him. “I apologize for dragging you into this Carson, but it really is too late for me to discuss this with anyone other than you.” She looked him in the eyes now “You are aware of the reason Lord Grantham and I have been in need of your… extra services. I think that perhaps under the right circumstances Lord Grantham could father his own child after this one; and I’m not quite sure what else I could be doing. I need you to teach me how to… pleasure… a man in the bedroom.”

Both Charles and Cora were scarlet by the time she finished and they stood there, mere feet away from her bed, in silence. Why did this have to be so bloody uncomfortable, he wondered, she’s already got a child in her for Christ’s sake and we’ve done it together half a hundred times already. 

“Well” he gulped as he began “I think in any man’s situation it is be nice to know that he is truly desired. Some men may favor… certain desires that he may not find suitable for his wife and she must prove she is willing to participate in this fantasy.”

“That’s just the point, he won’t even let me in on those desires. I don’t even know where to start. To be honest, I’m not even fully sure I can cater to his needs. I need you to show me, Charles.” If it was possible, the redness in her cheeks went a deeper red at the admission. 

He bit down on the inside of his lip to stifle a moan. The use of his Christian name did not go unnoticed. They shouldn’t be having this conversation. Why could he not just tell her what to do? Why did she have to drag him here when he was half in the bag and wrestling with his emotions.

“Milady” he began but was silenced when she closed the gap between them and placed a lone finger on his lips. “Please, show me. And for tonight, I’d like you to drop the title and ask for everything. I won’t be using them in bed with Robert.”

“To hell with propriety.” He said and pulled her in for a kiss that he poured in every ounce of his passion. She hung on to him for dear life as he explored her mouth with his tongue and savored the taste of her soft, full lips pressing against his. “Mine.” He growled as they pulled away for breath. A chance like this may never come again and he could not let it slip through his fingers. “Undress me.” With a confused look Cora casually reached up and undid his tie when he stopped her. “No, do it slowly. Enjoy it like fine wine. Admire it. Drink in the body. Savor it and roll your tongue around it.” She looked him straight in the eye as she slowly pulled the tie out from under his collar until it hung limp in her hand before dropping it to the floor. Next she splayed her hands on his hips and ran them up his abdomen and across his chest feeling the taut muscle that laid beneath. She gripped his shoulders then pushed his jacket off to join his tie. One shirt button came undone, followed by two and three exposing some skin that Cora decided need kissing while the rest of the shirt got unbuttoned. 

He toed off his shoes as his shirt joined the pile of clothing behind him. Slowly they walked to the bed where Charles sat down still wearing his trousers. Cora began to pull off her chemise when he stopped her. “Finish what you started.” Charles demanded and pushed her to her knees in front of him. In his drunken haze he tore the shoulder straps of her chemise, so the thin material fell forward once again revealing her large, full breasts and pert nipples to him. “Every man is proud to have the perfect lady on his arm during the day, who desires him by night. We want our women wanton in bed and unable to keep her yearnings to herself.” Cora nuzzled his abdomen kissing and licking her way down the line of hair that disappeared into his trousers. When she had run out of skin to touch, she turned her eyes to his and began working on the buttons of his trousers. She pulled back the front panel of his fly and marveled at the wet spot on his pants as she ran her hand along his length, making him hum in delight. He fell back on his elbows and reveled in her ministrations, only coming out of his stupor to lift his hips so Cora could remove his trousers and pants.

He looked down his naked body to see his cock standing hard and straight in front of the face of the woman he loved. “Suck it.” He commanded and showed her how to hollow out her cheeks and avoid scraping her teeth along his sensitive member. The rest she had been a natural at, slurping and swirling her tongue driving him wild until he was standing and holding her head while he thrust deep. A few lone tears escaped, but she kept hold of his hips as he pounded his way down her throat.

Charles barely managed to pull himself away in time and squeezed the head of his cock to avoid cumming - he did not want their night of debauchery to end before he had her every way she would let him. An idea came to him and he prayed as he opened the drawer of the bedside table, sure enough he found what he needed. The small Dunlop package was one of many scattered throughout the hotel usually meant for gentlemen who did not wish to father children with their mistress, but tonight the sheath would provide a different purpose. Charles pushed his finger through the thin bit of rubber and rolled it upon itself so it formed a nice, tight ring that fit snugly around the base of his penis. “This will ensure I can teach you everything I need to and not cancel class early.” He explained and her queer expression changed to giddy.

She was splayed out on the bed with legs in the air ready for him to ravish her. Charles stood there, lightly stroking his cock. “Touch yourself” he told her “and tell me how much you want me.” She reached down and started rubbing her throbbing pussy so he could see her fingers gliding along the slick folds. “Oh God Charles, I have needed you for so long. I crave your touch every morning when I dress and evening in the bath. Your strong hands caressing my body is heaven enough.” At this he felt he could no longer deny her – or himself for that matter – and laid next to her, adjusting their bodies so they were on their sides with her back to his front. “Keep going.” He said with a kiss to her shoulder. “Because of you I purchased something rather naughty during those weeks when we couldn’t be together.” “Tell me, what did you buy?” Now pulling her leg up and began grinding against her mound. “I bought… oh lord… it’s a Vigor Saddle*. Please… stop teasing me now.” “And, pray tell, how could purchasing a saddle be naughty?” He pressed the head in causing a solitary tear to escape her “It’s a saddle used inside the home. There is a dildo attached and I can ride it whenever you are too far. PLEASE CHARLES PLEASE!!!” The admission had been more than enough to stop prolonging her torture, she had babbled out the entire thing and her words ran together almost incoherently. “Steady love.” He said and ended her want pushing in slowly and deeply. She hissed her relief and whispered nonsensical words of love as he slowly worked on her causing glorious agony and relief. The long buildup led to a quick release of her juices flowing over his cock which continued to move in and out prolonging the pleasure. 

When she came down from her high, he had no intention of letting her rest. This time he positioned them so Cora was on her hands and knees with her hips arched upwards; Charles was right behind her paused at her entrance. They were facing a long mirror that stood across the room. He slid between her wet folds and could feel her center still vibrating around his cock. One hand roughly grabbed her breast and the other flitted along the nub beneath her now soaked curls. “Do you think about me when you ride your little horse?” he asked restarting his motions as she whimpered beneath his touch. “Yes” she mewled, closing eyes. “Do you do it in front of your husband… putting on a little show for the man who can’t enjoy your body?” His thrusts were stronger now as if he were trying to exercise some demon between them. “No” she cried sensing a bit of pain through the building pleasure. “I want you to call out my name when you ride. I want the entire house to hear my name leaving your lips in the throes of ecstasy.” By now Cora was slamming herself back onto his cock not caring she would be sore tomorrow. “Yes!” she practically shouted and was sure the rooms nearby heard her. “Open your eyes and look into the mirror. See what a slut you have become for cock.” 

When she opened her eyes she was not prepared for the image that lay before her. There they were, flushed and sweaty with tousled hair. Her breast was swaying to the rough rhythm of her butler who was ramming into her with all his might. The lies that had fallen from her lips had only served to turn her on and for a second that night she cried out her release.

Her shaky arms and knees were barely strong enough to hold up her body that was still vibrating with pleasure. He was still hard inside her and she didn’t think she could take much more. Charles Carson was absolutely a stud and she was the only mare on the range. It was as if he could read her mind and took pity on her. Charles pulled out and only once she was laying on her back did he groan and shoot his seed all over her breast.

He collapsed next to her, utterly exhausted, watching the sticky white substance drip down onto what was left of her torn chemise. Charles wearily pulled himself up, removed the sheath and fetched a damp flannel to clean her with. The clothes that laid in a heap were gathered and folded so they didn’t wrinkle unnecessarily. The raging stallion had left and her proper butler was back. Charles looked at her hesitantly and she thought she saw a flash of guilt in his eyes. He took two steps towards his bedroom before she called him back. “Please don’t leave me just yet.” “I don’t think it would be wise for us to spend the rest of the night together. It’s already late as it is and come morning service will be up to serve your breakfast.” She could hardly believe he was concerned about propriety after the last few hours they had spent together. “Don’t be ridiculous Charles, this is hardly scandalous among the upper class. In fact it’s practically expected at one point or another for lord or lady to have a preference amongst their staff.” She pulled back the sheets and patted the empty spot next to her. “Now come. You were instructed to protect me, so protect me from the cold. Robert won’t be pleased if I were to return with the flu.” He folded his clothing over a dressing screen, there was no arguing with that logic he thought. A gentle smile played across her lips when he crawled into bed with her and he smiled back through heavily lidded eyes. A quick kiss and they fell asleep almost instantly with his hand laid protectively over his growing child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *https://www.alamy.com/advert-for-a-vigors-horse-action-saddle-used-for-at-home-exercise-dated-19th-century-image186349016.html
> 
> No lies, this thing actually existed. You can actually see the dildo on the advertisement. It was a "health product" used to cure hysteria as well as a barrage of other things.


	6. Chapter 6

“What an absolute rubbish day.” He spoke to no one as he began the nightly ritual of locking up Downton Abbey for the thousandth time in his life. A knock on the hotel door had woken him from his peaceful slumber and the guilt immediately set in once again. He’d scrambled for his clothing and dashed back into his room while Cora, donned in only the hotel dressing gown, opened the door to accept her breakfast tray. A good bath was what he needed to soothe his aching body after that.

Charles looked out the dark window and reflected on his day. The April climate was surprisingly mild in Yorkshire compared to London, which was still drab and foggy when he and Cora left the hotel. The trains were running again, and Charles ended up sharing a car with a rather enchanting Scottish woman of a similar age. While she was courteous enough to the staff, she berated the cleaning crew behind their backs and swore that if they were under her guide, the train would be kept spotless at all time. It had been enough for Charles to invite her to Downton to interview for the head housemaid position. Perhaps she might even transition to Housekeeper one day and assist him in the running of Downton.

His pleasant mood had been replaced with sourness and guilt once again when they reached the abbey. Cora immediately leapt out of the carriage into the waiting arms of her husband. The rest of her day had been spent walking the grounds and laughing at the antics of Lord Grantham’s new pup, Osiris. Robert was a decent man and a generous employer and what had Charles done in return? Sneak behind the man’s back and repeatedly shag his wife.

“Lord Grantham is upstairs now and waiting for his valet.” The frosty voice of Sarah O’Brien snapped him from his reverie. He hated when she referred to him as valet and he suspected she only referred to him as such to get under his skin. “Her ladyship wants to speak with you afterward. She’s already dressed in her nightclothes, so I suggest you knock before entering.” The gall of this woman! “Miss. O’Brien,” he put on his sternest butler face “I know you are young, but may I remind you that I am the butler here at Downton and it not your place to remind me of what is proper. It would be in your best interest to take great consideration into your future words before impertinence finds you on the doorstep of a workhouse. You are very lucky to find yourself a job here, do not squander it by making baseless assumptions.” O’Brien’s face paled out and Charles’s heart warmed a bit with schadenfreude as she stammered out her apology. “I never meant to… Of course you’re the butler here… I’d never dream of…” and without finishing her sentence she hastily made her way downstairs to join the rest of the staff.

There was a bit of bounce in his step as he took the main staircase up. Nothing kept order in the house better than the threat of workhouses. Dressing his lordship had been a rather mundane affair. Robert inquired about his trip and whether he found the hotel adequate; polite topics he most likely discussed with his wife earlier. Bidding his lordship goodnight, Charles left the dressing room to see to her ladyship. Without thinking Charles opened the door to Cora’s bedroom and quickly closed it upon startling himself. He took a moment to compose himself and checked the hallway for errant servants who saw his error, after all it would be like O’Brien to be snooping the halls at night looking for scandal. Only once he was sure no one was around did he crack open the bedroom door. Cora observed herself nude in front of the mirror, her nightgown forgotten on the floor behind her. Everything about her was feminine beauty and he couldn’t help but watch from behind the door as she caressed her body. Illuminated only by the fire did she feel the smooth skin of her full breasts and fingers lazily brushed over the hard nipples standing out in the cool night air. Her belly was next and she spoke soothing words of love and promise to Baby. Entranced he slipped into her room and closed the door behind him without taking his eyes off her. Her eyes noticed him in the mirror, yet she said nothing, only shivered in the night. Charles swiftly took his place behind her and wrapped his arms around her. It was a tender moment where Cora relaxed against his form and Baby kicked against his hands.

Cora turned around in his arms and everything about the situation instantly became more erotic. Her naked body was pressed against his still body which was clad in full livery and his erection pushed relentlessly against her thigh. Unwilling to break the silence of the night, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lovingly upon the lips. In a strange way he tried to pour his sorrows into it, asking for forgiveness that he couldn’t fix the brokenness between her and her husband and that he had allowed his own sordid feelings stand between them.

Their kiss ended abruptly when Robert came stumbling through the door that separated their bedrooms. Charles paled and broke into a cold sweat, it was over. Not only would he be sacked, his name would be dragged through the mud for being an adulterer and he would be forced to leave service, perhaps even leave England altogether. Instead of being furious, Robert’ face was full of fear and his cheeks were flushed deeply. Naked, he frantically covered his nether region with his sleepshirt only to back out of the bedroom stammering disjointed apologies and excuses. Cora, as his ever-loving wife, immediately pulled away from Charles to aid her husband. He felt an utter pillock standing there, in the middle of the bedroom, in full livery, with a raging erection, just watching as a nude Cora knelt knelt to soothe her equally bare husband who looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Why on earth were you hiding behind the bedroom door Robert?”

He shook his head no and started hyperventilating.

“Come now,” she said stroking his temple “this won’t get any better unless we start talking.”

He shook his head again insistently staring at the floor.

“Robert Crawley. I am your wife - your strong American wife - and Carson is our butler. Together we are bringing your future heir into this world.” She cupped Robert’s face in her hands and made him look at her with the gentlest look in her eyes “There is nothing you could say that will send us running from you.”

Robert drew a steadying breath and cast his eyes downward again. “I.. I find I rather like the sight of you and him together.” He took another breath “I suppose I read too many Edwardian novels as an adolescent, but watching you surrender yourself to a man larger than myself is incredibly erotic… not that I’m of that way, mind you.” he added hurriedly. “The humiliation of watching another man take my wife in front of me sort of gets me off in a way I can’t explain.”

“Oh” Cora was a bit stunned to hear her husband’s confession.

“You think me deviant and depraved.”

“I am a bit surprised, but certainly not that. You should hear what the other ladies have to say about their husbands.”

Robert flushed again “I’d rather not -don’t think I’d be able to look at Shrimpie the same way again if I knew his proclivities.”

While Cora comforted her husband, Charles stood stock still not sure what to do. Should he quietly make his exit now that his erection had died down? Should he wait to be dismissed? Certainly whatever Cora had wanted to talk to him about could wait until morning, right? His only comfort at the moment was that the three of them knowing Robert’s kink led to a bit of job security. Robert may still get upset they kept this from him later, but he’d still be employed nonetheless -plus he and Cora could continue having sex.

“Charles” Cora drew him out of his musings “I think it’s best if we all went to bed now.”

_The three of them? Now? She hadn’t even asked if he agreed to this._

“I know you start interviewing for head housemaid position tomorrow. Please don’t bother running any candidates past me when you’ve narrowed down the list, I think we can trust you completely on upholding standards.”

_Oh… well thank God for that._ “Of course, milady. Downton only accepts the finest under my watch.”

“Perfect. That’ll be all Carson. Good night.”

“Good night” Charles gave a slight bow and restrained himself from running out of the bedroom. As he climbed the stairs leading to the servant’s quarters, his mind raced with this newfound information. What if Robert was that way and wanted to ogle him... or *gulp* touch him? The English upper class had their eccentricities, but that was unacceptable for Charles.

Trying not to think about it, he turned his mind to Elsie, the fiery Scottish woman he met on the train. There were four other women slated to appear tomorrow following breakfast and he hoped she would take up his offer and interview. Together they would work side by side to make Downton a sparkling gem amongst the English castles. His cock began to swell at the thought of her ordering about maids and checking for dust while he kept the footmen in line. _Oh, go down you_, he said to himself and climbed into his bed for a well-deserved rest. It had been one hell of a 48 hours and he was positive tomorrow would be the same.


	7. Chapter 7

_Good thing nothing in this house remains easy_ Charles thought to himself as he rested his head on his hands. The applicants for head maid would be arriving soon and it’s likely one of them would be hired with an instant promotion. What had caused that retched old woman to go outside and chop wood anyway? The woodshed was almost full, and the weather was warm enough by this time of year that the footmen didn’t have to split many logs for the morning fires. The only thing she managed to split this morning was her hip in the dewy courtyard according to Dr. Clarkson, and it was unlikely she would ever return to work if she pulled through.

“Here’s the tea you wanted Mr. Carson.” The assistant cook said shouldering her way into his pantry with a tray loaded down with tea, cream, sugar, lemon, honey, and almond biscuits. “It looks like all the ladies are here, you want me to start sending ‘em in for the grillin’?”

“I would much prefer if you sent _one_ in for her _interview_, **Beryl**.” Beryl was a talented young girl and had no issues running the kitchen whenever the cook was out, but she had seemingly endless ways of getting under his skin.

“Alright then, don’t get your drawers in a bunch O Great One.” Retorted Beryl, purposely avoiding his glare as she backed out into the hallway.

Charles stood when the door opened again. “Good afternoon, Miss. Hughes.” He said gesturing for her to take the seat opposite his desk. “I am pleased you to see you have considered Downton for your future.”

“Good afternoon Mr. Carson.” She handed him her reference “I could hardly turn down a request from a place as prominent as Downton Abbey.”

While he poured the tea, he noted her prim appearance and the care she took smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. Respect for the Abbey and herself was a good start. They both stirred two sugars into their tea and took a biscuit from the plate before starting the interview.

“I see here you are currently the housekeeper at a dower house in Scotland. May I as why are you choosing to leave for a head maid position?”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m officially no longer employed there. The dower passed away the day before we met on the train, bless her.” She sipped her tea “But I had been considering a change of employment for a while now. I frequently ran out of things to do and found myself recleaning rooms just to keep busy.”

“I’m sorry to hear of her passing, but I very much like your enthusiasm for cleanliness.” He rifled through his drawers for a few sheets of paper “Now, unfortunately our housekeeper took a spill this morning and will not be able to work again. As it goes, I am now looking for a housekeeper as well as a head housemaid. Here you will find the cleaning schedule used by the previous housekeeper and the list of cleaning supplies she used. Please take a moment to read through and tell me what you think about it and if there are any changes you would care to make.”

She accepted the papers from him and while she looked over the list, Charles took the chance to look over her. Elsie Hughes was a sturdier built woman with brown hair and a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Though she was shorter than him, as were most people in the house, the thought of her fitting snugly under his arm popped into his head. She was more buxom compared to the other ladies in the house and her hips were enough to make any man salivate. He decided her body type could only be described as deliciously curvy.

“Well,” she brought him out of his musings “the schedule looks adequate, but there seems to be a fair amount of waste going on with your cleaning supplies.”

“Go on then.”

“You see, you could easily replace two of these cleaners with a bottle of cheap vodka and some water. It works just as well and it’s far less odorous reducing the need of bicarbonate; the dowager was very sensitive to unpleasant smells. You probably have enough egg shells on hand that could easily replace some of your scrubbing materials and correct me if I’m wrong, but it doesn’t seem as if the former housekeeper didn’t wet-dust surfaces or keep any smaller brushes for getting into those nooks and crannies. They’re small details, but I believe they make all the difference.”

Charles ran her through the rest of the questions knowing full well that Elsie was well suited to be housekeeper, but decorum demanded he finish their interview and he speak with the other four ladies who had made the trek to Downton.

“Well, it seems as if we’re done here. If you’d like, you are more than welcome to mull about the servant’s hall and get acquainted with the staff. I have a feeling I will be hiring at least one woman today.”

A beautiful smile spread across her face “Thank you Mr. Carson. I’ll wait for you there.”

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Something between a groan and a sigh escaped Charles as he lowered himself into the bath that night. Everything had fallen into place since the month’s terrible beginning. Mr. Watson, Lord Grantham’s self-chosen valet, seemed to have a certain flair when it came to dressing his lordship sharply, and tonight he proved he was more than adequate when it came to serving a table. A quick meeting this morning confirmed that the new maid was happy and getting along well with the rest of the Downton staff. Mrs. Hughes was his favorite new addition to the downstairs. Not only was she keeping the house spotless, she kept her girls in line while commanding respect in a way he had never seen before - his footmen respected him mostly out of fear. The only issue he had to deal with currently was getting a plumber in to fix the blocked bathtub in the women’s quarters. Until then the men and women had to share the men’s bath with a fixed bathing schedule.

Charles took the soapy flannel and scrubbed hard at a particularly stubborn grass stain on his forearm. The house had lost again this year at the annual cricket match, but he himself had a good day on the pitch scoring six runs and catching a few balls most other men would have missed. One ball in particular had almost hit Mrs. Hughes in the face before he’d caught it. She had been so relieved she fawned over him the rest of the evening as if he were a hero returning from war.

Finished with his bath he drained the tub and began drying himself as he continued thinking about the pretty new housekeeper. When they had gotten back to the abbey, she immediately ordered the men out of their whites and began instructing the maids on how to use vinegar to remove grass stains. Elsie had been so efficient with managing the cleaning schedule and her girls that Charles hardly ever saw the maids upstairs anymore despite every room looking flawless.

His cock began to stir as he threw the towel over his head to dry his hair. Nothing had been said about what happened _that night,_ and her ladyship had not even hinted she wanted him in her bedroom. The bathroom door opened but didn’t immediately close.

“A little privacy please!” he barked at the intruder.

“Oh my…”

Charles froze and pulled the towel away from his eyes. Mrs. Hughes stood in the doorway barefoot in only her dressing gown with her eyes firmly locked on his semi-erect penis.

“M.. Mrs. Hughes, I ..”He immediately dropped the towel to shield himself

“My apologies Mr. Carson..” Before either of could sputter out another word she dashed off back towards the women’s quarters with her face beet red.

Without a plan or even knowing why Charles raced after her clutching his towel around his waist. When he got to the door that separated the women from the men it was already locked. He rattled the knob hoping she could hear him on the other side.

“Mrs. Hughes, please unlock the door; we need to talk.” What he would say when she opened the door, he had no clue, but he had to put them right before tomorrow got underway. “Please, Mrs. Hughes, I swear I am not angry with you.” He put his ear to the door and tried the knob again, silence.

Defeated, he collected his dressing gown from the bathroom and went to his bedroom only to stare at the wall that separated his room from hers. Tomorrow morning would be uncomfortable for the both of them and he could only hope she wasn’t too shocked by what she saw. There was no use in fretting over the situation now. The only thing he could do was dress for bed and wait for breakfast.

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When morning came Charles was utterly perplexed. His blankets were slung low across his thighs and his nightshirt had ridden up around his stomach. His member, which was usually hard in the morning, lay limp against his body and the tension from yesterday had vanished from his body. During the night he dreamt of a hand tenderly caressing his body and fingers tracing the line of hair that ran from his navel to down below his beltline. The mysterious hand wrapping around his cock and tugging him to relief had felt too real, but surely he would have known if someone crept into his room and had their way with him – right? Either way, his sheets were clean and it was time to begin another day, which meant clearing the air with Mrs. Hughes first thing.

The smell of coffee and rashers greeted him upon entering the servant’s hall. No one else had come down for breakfast yet save for a few maids running in and out gathering firewood for the morning fires. Slowly the rest of the maids trickled in listening to the footmen grouse about sore muscles from yesterday’s match. Mrs. Hughes hadn’t graced them with her presence until Beryl was already setting out breakfast and even then, she was flanked by the new housemaid and O’Brien. She took her place next to him, without acknowledging him, and tucked into her eggs and rashers. The entire meal she kept her eyes on her plate only bothering to look up for the coffee pot. What nonsense this was if she thought she could keep this up forever. It had to stop, and soon.

“Mrs. Hughes, I’d very much appreciate if you could join me in my pantry following breakfast. I believe we still have an issue to clear up before the plumber gets here this afternoon.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t the time Mr. Carson. After we eat, I’ll be briefing the maids on their new monthly cleaning schedule. It’ll need to be done before the family is done with their breakfast.” Still not taking her eyes off her own breakfast.

“I’m afraid I must insist. It is rather important, and the maids can finish clean when the family isn’t occupying rooms.” He knew Scottish women were stubborn, maybe it hadn’t been a brilliant idea hiring her after all.

Before she could turn him down again, the head maid piped up. “Go on Mrs. Hughes, we can handle the cleaning while you talk with Mr. Carson. I’ll see to it myself that things are done to your standards.”

Elsie was silent for a moment, probably trying to think up a valid excuse to avoid him as eyes around the table settled on her. She sighed before forcing a cheery voice. “Alright then Mr. Carson. It appears I do have the time after all.”

The bell for Lord Grantham’s dressing room rang and the servants stood up immediately. “Off to the races everyone, I’ll be upstairs in just a few minutes.” He turned to look at the housekeeper who looked to be on the verge of crying, he’d have to be gentle with her. “Mrs. Hughes, please accompany me.”

She kept her head down the entire length of the hall and refused still to look at him once they were alone in his pantry, the way a child might when they knew they were in trouble. He opened his mouth to speak but his speech on knocking left his brain. “Are you alright Mrs. Hughes? I hope you weren’t too offended by what you saw. I’m horrified to think that I may have insulted a woman as decent as yourself.”

“Offended?” She looked up at him now “Mr. Carson, if anyone has the right to feel offended it is you. I thought the men were sound asleep in their beds and I didn’t want to risk waking them by knocking. When I didn’t hear any noise in the bathroom I simply entered and accidentally intruded upon your personal space.” She looked down at the floor again, her face beet red “I am appalled by all my actions last night. I’m afraid I’ll be turning in my resignation soon.”

“Resig… Mrs. Hughes, I will not hear of you turning in your resignation over an innocent mistake. You are the best housekeeper Downton has seen and you will not leave over something so trivial. The women’s bath will be working again this afternoon and we will hear no more of this nonsense. Can we agree on this?”

She looked at him with guilty eyes “Yes, Mr. Carson, I suppose we can forget and move forward.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Here you are.” Charles said handing over the talc bottle to a maid. “Thank you, Mr. Carson,” The maid dashed off with the bottle in hand, leaving him to grumble in the cleaning cupboard. In addition to being Downton’s butler, his towering height granted him the position of being Downton’s ladder. How things ever got back up on high shelves was a mystery to him, he certainly was never asked to put them back out of reach.

He took a left out of a storage room and immediately tripped over a basket filled with dirty laundry from the women’s quarters. He looked about for a maid to bellow at, only to have an empty hallway meet his glaring eyes. Irritated, he picked up the laundry basket so it would at least be out of the walkway. As he set it down on a chair, he couldn’t help but notice a pair of satiny white knickers. The ends were lacy and there were little frills along the bum; a tag on the inside read **E. Hughes**. He didn’t know why he did it, but after another quick glance to ensure he was still alone, he pocketed the knickers and headed up to his room where he safely tucked them away.

The rest of the morning he walked the halls with his emotions in an awful mess. His body was overflowing with excitement of having executed his first panty raid at the age of 35. Well, it wasn’t much of a panty raid he supposed, he hadn’t snuck into Elsie’s room and searched through her underthings; Mrs. Hughes was quicker with that lock than most of his footmen liked. Still, her knickers laid in his room unbeknownst to her or anyone else, and in his head that constituted a panty raid. Underneath all the excitement lay a hefty layer of shame and guilt. He had stolen from a woman he trusted and respected deeply. Even if the missing knickers were returned unnoticed, it was a stain forever embedded on his character.

“There you are Carson.” Cora’s quiet, quick voice dragged him out of his misery.

“Is there anything I can do for you, milady?” his voice equally hushed for some reason.

“Yes, I need you to join me in here, and please shut the door behind you.”

_Odd, but alright_ he thought. When he closed the door to the Blue Room, Cora was against the far wall looking strangely devious. She beckoned him closer and only when he was inappropriately close did she whisper “Robert’s birthday is coming up and I’d like to plan a surprise for him.” Everything she said after that made his bushy eyebrows rise so high, they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. “So what do you think?” she asked at long last. “I shall definitely think on it, milady.”

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In most other countries you could count on spring to welcome pleasant sunny days, but here in Yorkshire, the gloomy skies native to England ended April’s uncharacteristic warm streak. Nevertheless, families still crowded the village on a Sunday afternoon purchasing bolts of cloth to sew new clothing for growing children, buying food for the Sunday roast, or simply stealing one last chance to play in the grass before the rain came again. There was a simple sweetness in the air that Charles hadn’t felt since he was a young boy begging his parents for a sweet on the way home from church.

“Let’s dry your tears now lass and we’ll look for your mum. She’ll not be wanting to see you with anything but a smile now won’t she.” The unmistakable Scottish brogue was enough to divert Charles from his journey to the post office and look for his colleague.

In the grass Elsie Hughes knelt, gently wiping away the tears of a little girl who couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. “Come now,” she said gathering the girl in her arms and standing so they were of equal height “let’s find your mum.” They didn’t get very far before Elsie spotted Charles walking towards them. “Oh look, it’s my good friend Mr. Carson. He’s the butler up at the big house, you know.” She boasted to the clearly unimpressed child. “I bet on his shoulders we can find your mum in no time. You wouldn’t mind helping this young lass find her mum, would you Mr. Carson?” He sighed inward but reached out for the girl anyway. Becoming a periscope wasn’t what he had in mind when he took his detour, but he was not so hardhearted that he wouldn’t assist a frightened child looking for their mum. Elsie smoothed the girls dress as he hoisted her up high on his shoulder. “Look how tall you are Lillian!” Elsie exclaimed coaxing a much-needed giggle from the girl. “Alright now Mr. Carson, Lillian’s mum is wearing a light blue dress with a white hat.” She said as the three of them began to scan the area. He had almost given up hope and thought to find a bobby when he spotted a white hat far off in the crowd. “It that her standing by the penny lick man?” The girl whipped her head around excitedly only to have her face fall in disappointment. “No, that’s not mummy.” Charles cast a side-eye to Elsie who returned his worried look. “Right. Perhaps we best ask for help from the nice policeman standing by the bakery.”

He dropped the girl to rest more comfortably on his right hip, earning a pouty lip from Lillian before burying her face into his chest for the trip across the street.

Elsie was the first to greet the officer. “Good afternoon Officer... Clarke” she said reading his name off his badge “My friend and I could use some assistance getting Miss. Lillian here back to her parents.” The officer took a notepad and pencil from his pocket and began taking statements from both Charles and Elsie as well as some information from Lillian about her parents and where her father worked.

“Right. Well I won’t lie to you” the officer said uneasily “but the orphanage is already at capacity.”

“Orphanage?!” Mrs. Hughes exclaimed.

It’s common procedure when dealing with children whose parents are missing. The only other option I can offer Lillian would be a cell at the police station, which I’m not fond of, unless either of you plan on sticking around for a few more hours.”

Charles turned to Elsie “We couldn’t possibly stay that long, Mrs. Hughes. I’ve got one hour till the dressing gong and I still haven’t made it to the post office yet.”

She opened her mouth, most likely to argue with him, but before she could get a word in Officer Clarke proposed a deal “Look, I know you lot at the abbey are decent folk. How about if Miss. Lillian here went back to the big house with you and when we find her parents, I’ll come collect her?” He reached over and brushed the hair away from her face as if to get silent permission from the girl still clinging to Charles. Elsie glanced his way hopefully; it wasn’t the worst idea he had heard, and he hated the idea of upsetting the child even more. “I suppose that arrangement would be permissible.” He conceded. With that they bid Officer Clarke farewell and walked off to the post office.

Five minutes of waiting in line was how long it took for Charles to regret his decision. Lillian was already bored and had let herself go slack while holding his hand the way all children did when forced to wait in line. He supposed he shouldn’t have blamed her, the post office was stuffy and quiet with nothing interesting to look at on the bland, white walls. Sensing his frustration, Elsie came to his rescue “Tell you what lass. Why don’t you and I go back to the bakery for a fairy cake while Mr. Carson tends to business.” Lillian immediately perked up, grabbed Elsie’s hand and started hopping up and down. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Would you like me to get you anything while we’re there, Mr. Carson?” Elsie asked as Lillian looked ready to pull Elsie’s arm from her socket if only to escape the post office.

“I’ll be fine. You should go before the child collapses from lack of sweets.”

20 minutes later Charles left the quiet post office with a book of stamps for the house and a small parcel bought by Cora. At the bakery he found Lillian happily listening as Elsie told her all about Downton. “…and Lord Grantham has a puppy named Osiris that loves to have his belly rubbed. Ah, all finished are we Mr. Carson?”

“Yes, and we best be getting back to Downton before we’re late.”

The walk home had been enjoyable for the trio with Elsie reciting limericks to make them laugh and meting out his favorite almond biscuits as she saw fit. “I won’t have either of you ruining your appetite before supper. The cook will have my head if we didn’t show up hungry.” The dark skies turned to rain as they reached the front gate and the three of them had a foot race to the servants’ entrance, Lillian won of course.

Elsie got the girl settled in at the table while Charles hung up their coats and hats before racing up to ring the gong. The usual dinner rush began with footmen and maids rushing from kitchen to dining room insuring everything was on time and in place. Lillian, who picked up on the excitement, was eager to be in the mix. Charles had never felt indebted to the assistant cook until that moment when Beryl pulled the girl out of the hall and into the kitchen to stir crepe batter. Dinner upstairs progressed as usual save for the topic of Lillian dominating the table.  
“So O’Brien told me you and Mrs. Hughes bought home a guest tonight?” Cora casually questioned the butler.

“Yes, milady. A young girl got separated from her parents and she’s nowhere to go. The police felt it best if she were to stay at Downton while they sort things out.”

“Are we running an orphanage now?” The dowager chimed in earning a glare from her son.

Robert was also curious about the littlest guest. “I’ll bet you and Mrs. Hughes must feel more like parents with a child now in your care. Come now Carson, tell us of the little miss gracing our home.”

“Her name is Lillian Morgan, and she boldly informed Officer Clarke that she is four and a half, not four.” The table chuckled and even the footmen were caught with a smile. “Her father Timothy owns a haberdashery in the village with her mother Johanna. I do believe someone will be along to collect her soon and bring her home if they haven’t already. When I last went down, she was playing with Osiris and told me she was exhausted from stirring the crepe batter.” Another round of chuckles went around the table.

“My, my - we better thank our new cook for all her help then.” Said Cora “Please bring her upstairs after we’ve gone through. I’d love to meet her properly.”

“As you wish, milady.”

After the family finished their crepes, they sat at the table continuing their discussion while the footmen cleared the table. They rushed downstairs after Charles, eager to deposit the dirty dishes into the sink so they could dig into their own dinner. At the table Lillian sat between Charles and Mrs. Hughes ready for her bangers and mash. She was the center of attention that night and she happily chirped out answers to the servant’s questions. The entire dinner she ate three bites of the sausage Charles had cut up for her and ignored the mushy peas Elsie tried to get her to eat – one could only hope a child could survive on potatoes alone.

As promised Charles brought Lillian upstairs to meet Lord and Lady Grantham, only after Mrs. Hughes cleaned up her dress from a failed attempt to eat peas. She was just as endearing in the library as she had been at the servants table watching Lord Grantham show off Osiris’s tricks and listening to stories of big cities in America from her ladyship. The fun continued until Mrs. Hughes appeared in the doorway.

“Officer Clarke stopped by; it looks as if Lillian will be staying with us a little longer than we thought.”

Robert scooped up Lillian and deposited her in the dowager’s lap so she would be out of earshot for the conversation.

“What’s happened?” Robert asked as he joined Cora, Charles and Elsie’s little group.

“The haberdashery was empty all afternoon and no one has seen hide or hair of the parents since service this morning. It’s as if they’ve disappeared into thin air. The only good news is she has an aunt in Ripon who is willing to take in the poor girl until the police can find out more, but for now they’re officially missing.”

The four of them stood completely gobsmacked not knowing what to say; they had all been so sure things would have worked out just moments ago. Their silence was interrupted when the clock chimed eight and Lillian let out a big yawn from where she lay cuddled against an uncomfortable Violet Crawley.

“Looks like we better get the little one off to bed. I’ll have a maid makeup a cot for her in my room and she can spend the night there.”

Charles nodded his agreement and took Lillian in his arms. When they were once again in the servant’s hall Elsie checked on the stain still evident on Lillian’s dress and sighed. “Looks like I’ll have to give this a good scrubbing in the laundry room. We don’t want you going out in dirty clothing tomorrow, do we lass?” and bopped her on the nose for fun. “Mr. Carson will give you a bath in his pantry and tonight you get to sleep with me. Does that sound alright with you?” Now it was Charles’s turn to look uncomfortable holding Lillian. He shifted his body so she was no longer between the two of them. “Excuse me Mrs. Hughes, but I do believe me bathing a young girl would be entirely inappropriate.”

Elsie barely held back her laughter and tried to use her sternest housekeeper face with him. “Mr. Carson, if memory serves me correctly, the butlers sink was used to wash all manners of things – including the children. Now since I will be busy cleaning her dress and the women’s bath is backed up again, you can either wash her in the pantry or you can wash her in the men’s bath. Either way I’ll join you as soon as I’m finished with a nightgown for Lillian.”

Charles thought back to the last time he and Elsie were in the men’s bathroom together “Pantry it is then.” “I’m glad you’ve agreed.” She said and disrobed the girl down to her full slip in the hall. “Be sure to brush out her hair first, you won’t be thanking yourself afterward if you forget.”

Charles ran with Lillian up to his room to gather his toiletries, a towel and a flannel. Before leaving he seized the opportunity to have a little fun before she left. He grabbed his comb, sat her in front of the mirror and slowly detangled her long hair; an amazing amount of pink frosting from the fairy cake had survived in it from earlier. Next, he rubbed a bit of pomade into his hands and used the thick goop to style her hair in all sorts of crazy fashions making her cackle like crazy. When he was done indulging his inner stylist, they went down to his pantry and filled the large sink with warm water. Now came the awkward part. Lillian hadn’t cared a fig as he pulled the slip over her head and reached up now ready for her bath.

Once settled in the water Charles reached into his toiletry bag and laid out several items. Secretly Charles enjoyed a bit of pampering, but he to believe that many of the servants still hadn’t deduced parts of his ablutions. “You mustn’t tell anyone I use these Lillian.” He said reaching for one of three bars “I don’t want Mrs. Hughes thinking I wash like a girl. Smell this.” She giggled as he held the bar up to the girl so she could sniff it. “The smell is called bergamot and it looks like a funny, green orange.” Charles lathered up a flannel and began washing the days grime off the girl. Bathing a child wasn’t nearly as intimate as the way he believed, in fact he was rather enjoying the one-on-one time they were sharing. When he was convinced she was sufficiently clean, he took up the second bar and had her smell it again; she seemed to enjoy this one a bit more. “Are you going to wash me with three different soaps, Mr. Carson?” Charles chuckled at the quizzical expression on her face. He doubted many people in the village washed their hair with anything but soap. “Not entirely. This is a special soap made special for cleaning hair. It’s called shampoo and it smells like cedar and vanilla.” He loaded up on shampoo and worked every bit of pomade out before repeating again to ensure there was no trace of oil or pomade left. “Again?” Lillian whined when he reached for the final bar. “One last time.” He promised “This final one is called conditioner. It smells like the shampoo, but it makes your hair soft and shiny and easier to comb.” Charles rubbed the bar between his damp hands and worked the product into her hair one final time. If there was one thing about women’s hair that Charles learned that night, he learned that caring for it took more product and more time than men’s hair. He gave her crazy hairstyles again while the conditioner set in.

Watching silently from the doorway was Mrs. Hughes. “Well Mr. Carson, it certainly looks like you’ve both been enjoying bath time.” She said breaking her silence and fully entering the pantry.

“We certainly have.” He replied now rinsing out the conditioner “You must promise not to share my secret hairdressing talents, I’d hate to lose my job and have to make a go at it fulltime.”

Elsie and Lillian both got a good giggle at the thought. “Don’t you worry Mr. Carson; your secret is safe with us.” While Charles drained the sink and packed away his toiletries, Elsie wrapped Lillian in a towel and began drying her. Lillian’s yawns came more frequently now and was practically asleep by the time Elsie dressed her in a chemise for a nightgown and braided her hair. Now ready for bed, Lillian reached out for Charles. “Will you tell me a bedtime story?” she asked through another yawn and heavy-lidded eyes. Unable to deny her, Charles scooped her up in his large arms once again and spun a tale about a lost princess who was found and cared for by the butler and housekeeper until a prince came to take her where she could live happily ever after.

Lillian was fast asleep by the time they reached the door that separated the women from the men. Instead of taking Lillian from Charles, she checked the hallway and beckoned him into her room. Together they laid the girl in the cot and tucked her in with a kiss goodnight; tomorrow her world would change again.

“You know” Charles said as he and Mrs. Hughes trotted back down to the servant’s hall “I do believe I’ll miss the girl when she leaves.”

“As will I. Children do have a way of getting into our hearts without us even knowing it… Do you ever think about going another way?”

Charles stopped mid-stair to look at Elsie. “What do you mean?”

“Leaving Downton, having a wife and children, maybe opening a barber shop… you seem pretty prepared for that at least.” She smirked at her own quip.

He chewed the question over in his mind. “Do you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Perhaps if the right man came along…” silence hung heavy in the air, each knowing the end of her sentence, but unwilling to speak it: **_but we’re here_**. “Come along, it’s was a silly question to begin with and we have a lot of work to catch up on now that Lillian’s in bed.”

Charles followed her down the stairwell only to split into their respective offices and tidy up the loose ends of the day.

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It was nearly eleven by the time Charles made it back to his room and if he were to fall asleep this very moment, he would get seven hours of sleep before the next day began. Alas, his mind was running over the day’s events. Walking side-by-side with Elsie through the village, eating biscuits between errands, swinging a happy child from their arms. He got a small taste of family life and it whet his appetite for more. But he could never leave Downton; he worked hard to become butler and he couldn’t imagine doing anything else or being anywhere else. If only he could have both in his life, he would be truly happy.

Charles took the parcel he picked up earlier and stowed it in deep his dresser. He was happy Elise didn’t ask what was in the box, its contents were not suitable for a respectable woman ear nor a child’s. Elsie was a respectable woman, wasn’t she? A relationship with her would be completely different from what he had with Cora and he walked too far down that path to turn back. He supposed that’s why he rebuffed Elsie’s question earlier. Perhaps he could go another way if she were by his side. He would court her and wed her in a fitting fashion. Every day he would work hard for her and every night he would help her put the children to bed. He would dance with her till they were sure the children were sound asleep then take her to their bedroom to try for more, he would be very good to her indeed.

Now settled in bed he reached over to his nightstand and pulled the drawer out completely. Behind the drawer was the used pair of Elise’s knickers he had stolen days ago. Charles took a deep breath of the musky and sweet aroma that lingered, it was an addictive, homey smell that nothing on earth could replicate. Reaching into his pants, he pulled himself and stroked himself to thoughts of married life with Elsie. She would be warm and wet around him, perfectly enveloping him as if they were made to fit together. She would cling to him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear as he rocked their bodies deep into the night, forgetting every ache and pain life brought them. He’d run his fingers through her long brown hair splayed out beneath her panting body and watch her face redden with heat. He wouldn’t stop until he felt her shudder around him, and her sated body lay limp beneath him. They would hold each other close through the night till the sun came to part them again.

Tears ran from his eyes when his climax hit. He was chasing a pipe dream, a fantasy never to be reached that could only taunt him knowing Elsie was so close, yet so far from him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter gets way more kinky than previous chapters. Roberts birthday has arrived and he is Victorian levels of depraved. If that ain't your thing, skip to the bottom for a recap.

Charles sat in his pantry with a pit in his stomach and a single candle for light. _This is all part of the job_ he reminded himself, but it hadn’t been enough to help his crabby mood that developed as the weeks went by. This whole thing had been his fault anyway, letting his feelings get in the way.

He took another sip of whiskey. Today was Roberts actual birthday and Cora was determined to make it meaningful. More packages had arrived for Cora under an alias, and while he hadn’t opened them, he was informed of their contents and their uses. This time he drained his glass, the more he planned with Cora the more he hated himself. This very morning he’d woken and seriously considered another career, but he was useless and too unskilled for anything else. He checked his watch; the hour was late enough and he needed to start preparing. With a hefty groan he rose from his chair, blew out the candle and walked into the brightly lit servant’s hall. “Alright everyone,” he waited for the chatter to die down “we’ve got a big day tomorrow with many lords and ladies due to arrive early. It’ll be Robert’s first birthday as an earl and as a married man, so a little effort wouldn’t go amiss.” He eyed the room for effect. “We may have overnight guests, so I expect you to welcome any valets and ladies’ maids into our home and if there are none, I don’t want to hear any complaints from footmen or maids about pulling extra duty. Once again, we are to make an impression befitting Robert’s earldom, so I want everyone off to bed now. Off you pop.” A chorus of groans and grumbles circled the hall which were only met with a stern eyebrow. To push his point, Charles stayed in the hall till every servant trudged upstairs and brought up the rear. He bid Mrs. Hughes goodnight and waited to hear the click of the lock before heading into his own room.

In his misery he decided it would help him to prepare the way he used to - when he was just a man proud to do his job. He washed and shaved in his basin, worked fresh pomade into his hair and sprayed a small amount of cologne onto his genitals. Looking into the mirror he certainly looked the butler but took no pride in it. Somewhere in the house a clock stroke ten and he knew Cora and Robert would be waiting for him upstairs. Charles rooted through his dresser, unboxed the parcel that had been ordered for him and looked at it for the first time. It was certainly well crafted, perhaps even handsome and it wouldn’t have come cheap. He shoved it into his pocket knowing he would definitely be in need of its use tonight.

Charles pressed his ear to the door listening for the footsteps of any errant footmen wandering to the lavatory and back. He walked barefoot out the hall and down the stairs only bothering to put his shoes back on when he had several doors between them. He only stopped in the kitchen as he walked through the empty house, with every step he rehearsed his lines and cues as if he were back on stage again with Charlie Griggs – he hoped his improv skills were are good as they once were. Now outside the bedroom door he paused, crossing the threshold meant changing including who he was and the things he thought he was above. He took one last deep breath and entered the room without knocking.

Robert was having a heated discussion with Cora. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t let my valet and your maid change us for bed… what the devil do you want Carson?”

“Nothing much milord, just to do my job. Do you have the… other equipment milady?”

Cora opened the drawer of her nightstand. “Right here Carson. Robert, Charles has been helping me put together a little surprise for you and I hope it is to your taste.” She handed Charles what looked to be a leather dog collar and leash. Charles got to work on undoing Robert’s starched collar and replaced it with the soft leather one. He clipped the leash to the collar and tied the leash low on the bedpost so Robert was forced to kneel. Cora kissed Robert as he knelt “You can always trust me with whatever. If you don’t like any of this, just say stop and we will.” Was it love that filled Roberts eyes at that moment Charles wondered? Either way it was time to crack on and shed Robert of his clothing. The divestment was quick and without ceremony, clothes were simply removed and tossed aside as if one were undressing after a particularly tiresome day. Robert looked affronted at being handled in such a fashion, but remained silent with his eyes locked on Charles. From here on out things would get more difficult.

“Lean forward for me, milord.” He commanded when Cora prompted him with the next item. It was an anal plug which had been lubricated with olive oil pilfered from the kitchen. Robert leaned forward with his arse high in the air. Charles took one look at Robert’s puckered hole and wondered if the sight alone was enough to send him to hell; if it was, better he die now than continue with this charade. He ran the tip of the plug around Robert’s hole twice before slowly pushing it in, Robert shuddered and gave a small yelp when Charles reluctantly finished the job with a half-hearted swat on the bottom.

Robert’s arousal was becoming evident when sat back on his heels and Charles couldn’t believe this sort of thing could turn on a _normal_ man. He silently prayed Robert resisted this next part of Cora’s plan. Charles reached into his pocket and drew out the small object that had been hidden in his dresser. It was a cock ring, a real one made of silver with an onyx band that matched his cufflinks and a square diamond in the center for added elegance. He held the ring out to Robert. “If you wouldn’t mind, milord.” Robert looked at him quizzically till Cora stepped in and knelt next to him, he helped her as she used her husband’s shoulder for support. She unbuttoned the three buttons on the left side of his trousers and Robert followed through with the other three on the right. The front panel of his trousers fell forward and his flaccid penis flopped out before them. Never one to wait, Cora took the cock ring from Charles and slid it up his member. She kissed his length and stroked him nuzzling against his exposed skin. “Don’t you want to try Robert? I can attest Charles always feels so very nice in hand, and he is large enough for two hands.” Charles had to bite his lip to keep a straight face when Robert tentatively reached out and grabbed him where no man had ever before. They were utterly transfixed watching his cock unwillingly stiffen under their joint ministrations and he damned the cock ring for working more effectively than the rubber had. Cora wrapped her lips around his head and sucked down his length before offering Charles to her husband. “I should love to see you with a cock in your mouth.” Robert, knowing what it was to be a man himself, wrapped his lips around his teeth and nearly swallowed the cock in front of him. The sensation was enough for Charles to involuntarily moan and grab Robert by the hair. “That’s a good boy milord, a very good boy.” He said patting him awkwardly on the head.

Cora stood with help from Charles, who helped get her settled on the bed. Robert reached up to caress her leg only to have his hand swatted away by his butler. “You may play with your toy when I am done with her. What she needs now is cock.” Charles turned his attention back to Cora; she was nearing seven months pregnancy and would have to be more careful than before. Robert watched as he gently stroked her pink folds. One finger disappeared inside her, then two. When his knuckles were shiny and slick, he offered them to Robert who sucked his fingers greedily. “The countess tastes nice, doesn’t she? Maybe someday you’ll taste her for yourself.” Charles forced a smug grin across his face.

He helped Cora to stand again so she could bend over with her hands on the bed, she swore earlier that this position would take pressure off her and be easier on the baby. Charles grabbed a rubber from the nightstand, sheathed himself and poured a small amount of olive oil into his hand. He rubbed the oil over Cora’s forbidden hole, the one she was sure would arouse him the most. _“Be naughty and in charge.” She’d said earlier. “Treat him like an errant boy in need of punishment.”_ He rubbed the sheath with more oil before improvising and wiping his hands on Robert. “Looks like you can be of use in the bedroom to her ladyship.” Charles lined himself up and slowly pushed his way inside, it was difficult with only greased hips to hold on to. Cora groaned and reached down to stroke her clit, making sure Robert had quite the view. Charles grabbed a breast and carefully began to move before delivering his next line. “You know milord, it’s a good thing men like you have butlers. If it weren’t for us the ladies of the house wouldn’t know what real men were like and the lineage would fall to pieces.” Charles took a chance to glance below Roberts waist and saw that the man was fisting himself vigorously and couldn’t believe that he hadn’t been shouted out of the room by now. “Let’s not get too excited, I have plans for you yet.” The only response he got was a muted groan when Robert pinched the head of his prick.

They stayed like that for some time filling the room with the sound of his balls slapping against wet skin and Cora mumbling how thick Charles was. When he was close he pulled out, removed the rubber and slipped into the heaven he knew so well. She was already pulsing around him when she threw her head back and cried out. Her gripping heat was strong and he had no choice but to follow suit. It took him a few moments to regain his composure enough to finish this horrible and sordid act. Charles untied Robert’s least from the bed and led him to the spot behind Cora. “You’ve been a very good boy tonight, letting your wife have her fun. Why don’t you take a turn now that I’ve already had my way with her?” Robert was about to tale his wife by the hips when Charles yanked back on the leash. “I said you could put your prick in her, not that you could touch her. That is reserved for men who have earned it.” Robert gulped and clumsily steered his cock to his wife’s pussy that now had cum leaking out of it. Charles watched, amazed and slightly disgusted, as Robert thrusted into his mess. It was impossible to tear his eyes away from it, like watching your home burn down with all your possessions smoldering away into ash. Was this really what it took for some men to touch their wives?

Charles looked down at his own spent cock now hanging out of his trousers, he’d have to improvise for this last part. In a way, he was sort of thankful for that at least. He pushed Robert forward so he was now bent over and pulled out the plug, eliciting an annoyed whine from the man. With the help of a little more olive oil, Charles pushed one shaky finger into the man he served. “God yes!” Robert shouted as he pushed back onto Charles’s knuckle. Unsure of what to do, Charles decided to treat it like a vagina and see what he got. He curled his finger and brushed against a fleshy lump that made Robert jump. _Well, that’s my ticket out of this den of sin._ He stroked and circled the odd bump that made and was curious as to what it was that made Robert’s movement so very jerky. Relief washed over him when Robert grunted and stilled finding his release.

“You are absolutely marvelous, you know that.” Was Robert’s first sentence when he finally pulled out. The edge of the bed where Cora lay was absolutely filthy and Charles had no desire to clean up after the both of them. “Clean her.” He said hoping he kept the upper hand in the afterglow. Bile rose in his throat when Robert dropped down to his knees and lapped his wife of their traces. For God’s sake, he’d meant for the man to grab a towel. Cora grabbed Robert roughly by the hair urging him on till she came a second time that night. Still coming down from her high, she reached for his leash and pulled Robert up next to her and gently stroked his cheeks. That was how he left them that night, chatting and giggling while he pulled up his fallen trousers, pocketed the cock ring and quietly made his exit.

The clock chimed twelve as he roamed the hallway, not really wanting his bed. Two hours he had been in there with them fixing their marriage. When Patrick Crawley had died Charles had promised everything to Robert the day of his earldom, now he wasn’t sure if he could keep this promise. Perhaps things would be alright if he left Downton with an heir in line. Cora had unlocked the secret for creating spare heirs and the clever American could find a way to do it without his help. After all, an earl who could not produce heirs was far more scandalous than an earl with a depraved fetish. Still, Downton was his home and depraved or not, they were his family.

He eventually found himself back in his pantry and took up the whiskey he had been drinking earlier. The glass had barely touched his lips when a foul stench reached his nose. He set the glass back down and scrubbed his hand clean in his sink. Washing his hands led to him rolling up his sleeves and scrubbing up to his elbows using a stiff brush. When he still wasn’t clean enough, he removed his shirt and trousers and began scrubbing every inch of available skin till he sat pink in a puddle with his glass, a bottle and tears running down his face.

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Pain shot through his head when he woke the next morning. The clattering of pots and pans in the kitchen and idle chatter of servants were hell a special kind of hell reserved for him this morning. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, he had to get up before someone went looking for him and found him completely naked on the floor of his pantry. Charles pulled himself up and rubbed at the sore spot on his back where the cabinet door handle had dug into it all night. A quick check of his reflection in a platter confirmed that he indeed looked worse for wear.

With no toiletries and no clean clothing, he needed an alibi for his shoddy appearance. That alibi was tested the moment he left his pantry with as much dignity a person hungover, in dirty clothes and disheveled hair could manage in the form of Mrs. Hughes.

“There you are Mr. Carson… What on earth happened to you last night.”

“I’m afraid I had trouble getting to sleep last night, so I came down to polish some silver and ended up spending the night on my desk.” _That’s believable, right?_

One sniff and the look on Elsie’s face alone was proof that she hadn’t bought the lie, but she accepted it none the less. He was absolutely sure she smelled the whiskey on him and was grateful she didn’t mention it.

“Well, you do look in need of a proper lie down. Why don’t you head off to bed for a kip and I’ll instruct one of the footmen to take over for you for breakfast.”

“Absolutely not,” this was his hell and he’d have to deal with it no matter how hungover he was. “I just need to get upstairs so I can shave and get into clean clothing.”

“If you insist… Here” Elsie pulled open a linen closet and pushed an enormous stack of sheets and towels into his arms that blocked his vision.

“What on earth?!”

“Hush now,” she said, taking a smaller stack for herself “you can use the linens to hide your face from the servants. If any of them ask I’ll tell them I grabbed too many and you were doing me a kindness.”

_Absolutely brilliant_. As they walked the halls he swore to himself that he would find a proper way to pay her back for saving his skin, perhaps a few extra half days or an excuse to bring her with them on the next trip to Duneagle. They passed through the servant’s hall with no questions or remarks as to why the butler was doing a maid’s work. When they were outside the hall with a wall between them and the staff, Elsie took his linens and placed them a table.

“I’ll have the maid’s take them up later when they turn down the rooms. Right now, you go upstairs for a shave, a comb and some fresh clothing. I’ll have a Beechams and a coffee ready for you when you get down. Charles thanked her with a chaste kiss on the head. “Oh, get out of here you silly flirt.” She said, blushing. “And a healthy dab of cologne wouldn’t go amiss either.” She called after him as he trod upstairs.

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The rest of the morning went rather smoothly with the staff none the wiser. Perhaps he should rethink things if they didn’t find his mood crabbier than usual. Breakfast upstairs was canceled with both Robert and Cora ringing for a tray in the bedroom. With his presence unnecessary, Charles set the footmen to work moving furniture about for the upcoming party while he took a moment to relax in his pantry.

Still on the floor was the whiskey bottle and his glass from last night. There wasn’t much left, maybe a large mouthful at most. Charles took up the bottle and upended it, swallowing the contents whole. _An empty bottle - the perfect excuse to head into the village and get more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TLDR: With the help of Charles, Cora gets Robert to fully consummate their marriage. Charles is deeply disturbed by by Robert's fetish and starts drinking. Elsie is helps Charles hide his hangover.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter will start/continue the Crawley tradition of women having difficult labors. There is zero death here, but if you can not handle a pregnancy that is not smooth, do not read this chapter! Check the end for a TLDR and a disclaimer.

Charles took another swig from his flask when he stepped around the horse pretending to check its harness. He was careful with his drink now, watering his whiskey after getting caught by Mrs. Hughes back in May. While he wasn’t exactly up a pole every day, it was much easier spending life not exactly sober.

He quickly stuffed the flask back in his pocket and went to greet Lord and Lady Grantham. They had been spending considerably more time together since that night with Lord Grantham either canceling engagements or declining invitations to spend more time with his wife. Charles tried hard not to think of the nights he had spent with them since Robert’s birthday, but images plagued him incessantly. “Carriage is all set to go milord. Shall we be expecting you home for supper?” He asked while a footman opened the door. “No, Cora and I will be dining in London tonight, but we will be catching the last train back home. Mama believes it to be bad luck for a woman to spend too much time away from Downton when she is carrying the heir.” Robert replied as he helped Cora into the carriage.

The butler closed the door and stepped back to watch as the horses pulled the carriage away hoping his silent prayer would be heard over the wickedness of his doings. You see, Doctor Clarkson had gotten suspicious of Lady Grantham’s health after her last and advised she visit the specialist in London again. When the carriage was out of sight, he took another drink from his flask and went inside to find a footman to bark at.

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Farmers, gardeners and other people were tidying up to head inside when doorbell rang at Downton Abbey. “Who in blazes could that be?” Charles said to no one as he pushed himself up from his desk. The bell rang again and again irritatingly as he focused on taking steady steps down the hallway. Mrs. Hughes was standing by the stairs that led up to the main floor and she didn’t look too pleased to see him.

“Perhaps I should be the one to answer the door Mr. Carson… or maybe one of the footmen.”

The woman had a way of seeing through him and while the rest of the staff were either unaware or uncaring of his drinking, Mrs. Hughes was the only one to challenge him.

“No Mrs. Hughes, I am the butler here and I shall be the one to answer the door.”

Mrs. Hughes opened her mouth again to protest his going upstairs when the bell chimed again impatiently, and he cut her off.

“_I _am the butler here and it is _my_ job to answer the door.” He closed the gap between them for emphasis “Do not challenge me or my authority.”

Mrs. Hughes looked down at her feet and stepped away from the stairs looking fearful and it hurt him deeply to his surprise. She had been the only one to care for him since he took up the bottle, smoothing his appearance before he showed himself to anyone and pushing him to eat when his stomach was too sour for anything solid.

“I apologize Mr. Carson. I didn’t mean to act impertinently.”

He wanted to ask her forgiveness for acting like a boor, but the bell rang again.

“You’d best answer that as quickly as you can Mr. Carson. It must be important.” She said not quite meeting his eyes. He only nodded his reply and took the stairs using the bannister and wall to steady himself.

“What in seven hells took so long for someone to open the bloody door?” Robert was standing, red faced on the front holding Cora. “Milord! We were not expecting you till later. Is everything alright?” Everything was clearly not alright as Lord Grantham shouldered his way in passed Carson, avoiding the automatically open arms to help carry. “Everything is fine for now, but Lady Grantham is to be put on strict bedrest starting now.” Robert said as he climbed the stairs with Charles following in tow. “Apologize to the cook for the change in dinner plans. The both of us will be taking trays in the bedroom. Nothing complicated, sandwiches will do fine for tonight. Send for O’Brien and a maid to change her ladyship, she’s going to need help dressing her.” Charles opened the door to the bedroom and watched Robert settle Cora on the bed. “And I think it goes without saying that our nighttime activities are on hold for now.” Charles bowed his head in agreement and closed the door behind him. For the first time in weeks the hollowness he’d felt was replaced by worry. His prayers had not been heard and now their evils were to be paid for.

“O’Brien!” he barked, making the young girl jump “Find a maid and get upstairs. Her ladyship is in a delicate way and needs assistance.”

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*Three weeks later*

A hammering on his bedroom door roused Charles from his slumber with a splitting headache. It was still black outside and the July air was sticky in the attic. His nightshirt had ridden up again, something that had stopped shortly after he had started drinking. He fixed his nightshirt and put his midnight visitor out of head if only to stop the pounding on his door.

“What on earth do you want? Don’t you know what time it is?” he spat at the frightened hall boy.

“I’m sorry Mr. Carson, but the bell is ringing like mad in Lady Grantham’s room. I’d thought you’d like to know.” The poor chap looked as if he might wet himself.

Charles immediately grabbed his robe “You were very good to do so. Rouse Mrs. Hughes and have her and O’Brien meet me upstairs.”

“Yes Mr. Carson.” he said and dashed off for the door to the women’s hall.

He hurried up the stairs as quickly as his dehydrated body would allow him, willing that this night wouldn’t end in the ultimate demise. Mrs. Hughes and O’Brien were right on his heels as Cora’s voice rang clearly across the gallery. The women overtook him with surprising speed, beating him to the door and entered without knocking.

Finally standing in the doorway, he found Mrs. Hughes and O’Brien at Cora’s side and a frazzled Robert pacing. It was a startling scene that left him wide eyed and apprehensive.

“It looks like Baby Grantham is on his way, Mr. Carson.” Mrs. Hughes said taking command of the situation. “Why don’t you send for Doctor Clarkson, this is a woman’s situation after all?”

“But baby isn’t due for at least another month! It can’t come now!” Charles exclaimed.

“Yes, well you can admonish him for his early arrival when he gets here. Until then, fetch Doctor Clarkson.”

He nodded and made to turn around, eager to leave before he fainted when Cora spoke up. “No. I want Carson to stay.”

The other four occupants of the room looked at each other, not sure what to make of the request. “But milady, he’s a man. He doesn’t have a place here in this room.”

Any reply Cora had was silenced when she began another long moan, causing the young lady’s maid face to turn green. Mrs. Hughes caught the look and decided their best option was not to argue with their employer in this situation. “Let’s not make a fuss now O’Brien. Trade places with Mr. Carson and get a hall boy saddled up with a message for Doctor Clarkson. After that we will need some warm water, a flannel and plenty of towels. We will ring if we need anything else.”

An indignant O’Brien opened her mouth, presumably to protest being thrown out of the room, when Mrs. Hughes shot her a stern look. “**_Now._**”

O’Brien rose and grudgingly turned the sweaty palm over to the butler. He sat on the edge of the bed with his heart beating wildly in his chest and his mind racing faster than he thought possible. Another sharp, long moan came from Cora that could almost be called a scream and she dug fingernails painfully deep into his hands for what seemed like an eternity. Mrs. Hughes looked at a clock above the fireplace “I’m no doctor, but I’m not sure if doctor will make it in time.”

“Already?” Lord Grantham said, paling at the sentence and more harried than when Charles had entered.

“Milord, it would be helpful if we had someone keeping a lookout for Doctor Clarkson…” Mrs. Hughes said, leaving her sentence purposely open-ended.

“Right you are.” Robert replied taking the bait “I shall see to it myself that no time is wasted once he gets here.” and bolted out the door before another sentence could be said.

They sat alone in silence with Mrs. Hughes occasionally mopping the sweat off Cora using the bedsheet. “I think we better check on baby’s progress.” She said biting her lip, clearly not wanting to look.

Another pain ripped through Cora. She was utterly exhausted, and her body was flushed. Communication seemed to be past her. Charles swallowed hard “I can do it.”

He met no resistance from either of the women as he slowly peeled back the comforter when O’Brien and a maid bustled into the room with a large washbasin, a large stack of towel and several flannels.

“What are you doing Mr. Carson?” O’Brien questioned with a shifty look.

“He’s taking care of her ladyship!” Mrs. Hughes immediately snapped back “Now if you’re done here, hand me a wet flannel and go back to the servant’s hall until you are needed again.”

O’Brien narrowed her eyes at the butler and housekeeper before doing as she was told and taking her leave. Charles gave Mrs. Hughes a grateful smile, it seemed he wasn’t the only one that found O’Brien to be a scheming imp.

They turned their attention back to Cora, who was now shifting uncomfortably in her bed. Mrs. Hughes mopped the sweat from Cora’s brow as he peeled back the remaining sheets. There was a wet spot on the mattress and the baby was moving excitedly in her stomach. He inched his way around her legs and his whole body gave a jolt when he peered between them.

“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Hughes asked, “Is baby coming?”

Charles took a deep breath before formulating his reply. “I’m not sure, but it’s huge.” He shuddered as he exhaled “It’s the size of a bagel. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Mrs. Hughes drew her eyebrows together, not quite sure what he was talking about at first. A moment later when it dawned on her, she stifled a laugh. “Yes. Well, baby does need his space.”

Charles took another breath to steady himself. “Right. Time to get a proper look.”

This time he placed his hands on Cora’s knees and spread her legs a little further apart. “I can almost see the baby’s head; I think it’s got black hair!”

“Oh, where is that blasted hall boy with the doctor?” Mrs. Hughes worried.

Cora screamed again and Charles watched as Cora pushed till the tip of the baby’s head was just out. “Baby’s head is almost out” he relayed to Mrs. Hughes as adrenaline rushed through his body.

Mrs. Hughes gave him a knowing look and turned her attention back to Cora, showering her quietly with praise and encouragement. Another biting scream and the baby’s head emerged. “Baby’s head is out, but I can’t see the face.” He said, feeling the need to share the extra information. “One more and I think I can pull baby out.”

“You hear that, milady?” Mrs. Hughes said to Cora “One more push and Baby Grantham will be here.”

Cora nodded weakly in response. Charles had been so bitter the last few months it felt odd to worry over Cora’s health again. The three of them stayed silent with only Cora’s panting filling the room with a slew of emotions ranging from anxiety to hope and anything in between. In just one moment, the Crawley home would change forever.

Cora hunched her shoulders and took deeper breaths. _Here it comes_ he thought as he readied his hands. She gave another piercing scream as the shoulders slowly emerged. “A little more, a little more.” He urged when her strength gave out. Baby was almost here, but it was too slippery to get a grip on it. Carefully, he hooked his pinkies under Baby’s armpits and slowly pulled baby free. He slowly turned Baby over to get a proper look at it.

“It’s a girl! A baby girl!” He cried. A smile burst upon his face that disappeared as instantly as it had appeared; Baby was here, but Baby wasn’t crying.

Mrs. Hughes held on to Cora as fear filled the room. “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong with my baby?!” Cora shrieked finding the strength to function as only a mother could do, he supposed.

He looked down at the little girl in his hands, _his _little girl. She was a little small for a newborn as he expected coming a month early. Her forehead and shoulders were covered in a fine hair and she seemed skinny, having very little baby fat to keep her warm.

Charles could feel his heart break into a million little pieces as he held the little girl to his shoulder and rubbed tiny circles on the soft skin of her back. Tears flowed freely down his face as he thought on how all his misdeeds have come back to hurt him in the cruelest way imaginable. A child had died because of things he had done over a few short months. _His_ daughter had died at _his_ own hand, and he never got the chance to dote on her. If she had lived, he knew he would have gone to the ends of the earth to give her everything she desired.

So lost in his own misery was he that he never heard Mrs. Hughes asking for the baby for Cora nor Robert entering the room. A small, feeble cough against his shoulder was followed by a crying that didn’t come from him. The mood in the room instantly lightened as Baby Crawley yowled her pitifully weak cry, but she was alive, and it was enough to make Charles’ heart swell to bursting.

Mrs. Hughes abandoned Cora on her pillows and rushed to grab a flannel and fluffy towel from the stack. She gently wiped Baby’s face clean and wrapped her in the towel before taking the child to her mother and father. She stood there for a moment next to him at the end of the bed, watching with misty eyes as the new parents welcomed their new child into the world.

“Are you disappointed it’s not a boy, Robert?” Cora asked refusing to take her eyes off her daughter.

“She’s absolutely the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” Robert said choked up with emotion and pressed a kiss on top of his wife’s head.

It was now when Doctor Clarkson entered the bedroom with his medical bag in hand and what looked to be pajamas underneath his clothing. Charles and Mrs. Hughes quickly discussed the birth with him providing as many details as they could remember.

“Well, it looks as if you had great instincts Mr. Carson. At this stage of development Baby likely has an underdeveloped respiratory system and was unable to clear the fluids from her lungs herself. You very well may have saved her life. Lord and Lady Grantham owe you a great debt. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should see to Baby.”

“Look at you Mr. Carson, great instincts. Perhaps you missed your calling as a midwife.” Mrs. Hughes teased when they left the room.

“Saving one infant in a lifetime is plenty of action for me, thank you Mrs. Hughes.” He said as they passed by a window and noticed the promised light of sun in the distance. “My body is so alive right now I don’t think I’ll be able to get a wink of sleep.”

“I don’t think I could either.” she agreed “Perhaps a cuppa downstairs ought to set us right.”

Mrs. Hughes prepared the tea while Charles rummaged about for a box of biscuits they took with them to her sitting room so as not to wake the hall boys. Even there he couldn’t hide his excitement, walking around and talking about the baby and the rush to get a nanny.

“Do you think the staff would like to pool some money together for a proper present?” he asked.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t.” She said biting back more laughter as she watched him bounce around the room. “Babies are wonderful beings after all. Why don’t you sit down, your tea is getting cold.”

“Better yet,” he grabbed her by the hands and pulled her up for a dance with a silly smile plastered to his face “why don’t you stand up?”

A small squeal escaped her as she fell into his grip and let him spin her around the room for a minute or two. “I never expected a baby would have this effect on you Charlie, but I’m glad to see you happy again.” There was a sincerity in her eyes that warmed his already full heart.

“The world should be filled with more babies; don’t you think Elsie?” She stopped and her eyes widened before he realized what he said. “I didn’t mean… the two of us… not now… of course…” He felt a stammering fool having accidentally propositioned her for that. “I’m sorry Mrs. Hughes. I’m afraid the excitement of delivering a baby has gotten into my head and I misspoke in an unintentionally rude way.” he finally said with all honesty.

“That’s quite alright Mr. Carson. We’re all allowed a faux pas every now and then.” She said taking her seat again

This time he joined her at the small table and waited for the rest of the house to wake.

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Downton Abbey was abuzz with activity when Doctor Clarkson released Lady Grantham and baby Mary from hospital weeks later. Maids gathered in the nursery was to give it a more feminine touch and footmen divided their time between fussing over the baby furniture and Lady Grantham. Meanwhile, Charles and Mrs. Hughes analyzed every nanny application that came in before interviewing the few they felt were qualified for the task.

The first night mother and child were home Charles insisted he be the one to stay in the nursery to watch over Miss Mary, not that he had any real idea of what he would do when she started crying, which is exactly how Mrs. Hughes found him.

“Someone looks to be a little fussy her first night home.” She said as she watched him rub Mary’s back in her crib.

“She’s eaten, burped” he gestured towards the stain on his jacket “and been changed. I’m not sure what more she wants.”

“Well the poor lass has had quite the day being passed around as if she were the Sunday roast. I don’t blame her one bit for being a bit cranky.” Her theory had some merit, but it didn’t solve the problem at hand. “You know,” she said tentatively “when Becky or I got in a state, mam used to lay us on our father’s chest. She said it was us hearing his heartbeat and feeling his skin that calmed us down. Then again, Da was always gentle with us when we were babes.”

He checked his watch, it was getting late and he’d really love to get some sleep himself before the next feeding, but… “Do you think it would be appropriate?”

Mrs. Hughes smiled a lopsided grin “She’s only a few weeks old Mr. Carson, and I hardly think soothing a wailing infant would be considered scandalous anywhere. I’ll take your jacket and get it cleaned for you by morning.”

_That was one matter off his plate_, he thought as Mrs. Hughes helped him out of his jacket and put it aside. His tie and waistcoat followed next, but when he started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he realized Elsie was still in the room with her eyes firmly fixed on him. Now feeling self-conscious in his own skin, he tried to find an excuse. “Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable away from my bawdiness, Mrs. Hughes.”

“Bawdiness?!” she laughed at him causing heat to rise to his face in embarrassment. “Mr. Carson, you should remember I grew up on a farm. There’s nothing bawdy about a man’s chest.”

She was technically correct, he wasn’t a woman after all, and with no way to press the issue without hurting her feelings, he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, pulled off his vest and sat in the rocking chair. He noticed Elsie’s eyes lingering over his body before gathering Mary from her crib and settling her on his chest. Within moments Mary began to calm, bringing relief to his sore ears. “There we are now,” Mrs. Hughes said smoothing Mary’s hair “all nice and snug against Mr. Carson. You’ll always be safe in his strong arms.”

Not knowing how to reject the compliment he kept his eyes on Mary, knowing that he would in fact always protect her and she would always come first to him – if he could figure out how to take care of himself first.

They waited silently as Mary drifted off to sleep, with the low creak of the rocking chair the only signal that the nursery was occupied. When he was sure Mary was asleep, he slowly rose and made the gentle transfer to the crib without waking her.

Finally free, he grabbed his clothing and followed Mrs. Hughes out towards the hallway. When the door softly clicked behind them, he spun around to find himself inches away from the housekeeper. An odd tension rose between them just outside the nursery door. “Thank you for your assistance Mrs. Hughes. I’m afraid Miss. Mary would have spent the whole night howling if it weren’t for your insight.”

“Aye, we make a good team, you and I, Mr. Carson.”

“You make the team. I’m afraid I’ve become rather useless around here.”

A half a step and she closed the gap between them and what she said next he not only felt on his naked chest, but resonated through his being. “We all need a little help Charlie. You can always look to me when you need the help, and none of us are beyond saving.”

Then, as quickly as she had said it, she took the clothing from his arm and headed for the green baize door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TLDR: Cora goes into labor a month early in the middle of the night. Labor is quick and Charles gets tasked with birthing the baby (Robert and his Victorian sensibilities). Mary doesn’t breathe immediately after being born, but starts crying after Charles rubs her back (a happy coincidence with what often happens in these scenarios). Both mom and daughter are hospitalized, but no scene details here.  
ALSO: I am not even close to a medical professional, nor have I ever given birth or even seen one. I’m just getting notes from the internet, which we know has never ever lied to us, but I swear I used hospital sites for accuracy. This is in no way a guide to home birthing a baby. In fact, there is a major birthing no-no in here on purpose because this is being done by a butler, not a doctor/nurse/midwife/person with proper training. That being said: DO NOT EVER PULL A BABY OUT BY THE ARMPITS! Do everything you can to get your vag to a doctor and let the professionals handle it!


	11. Chapter 11

The buzz that swept Downton Abbey eventually faded back to normal following the christening. A young woman had overcome the many hurdles and secured the position of nanny letting maids, footmen, housekeeper and butler get back to normal duties. Mary was a three and a half months old now and, since girls could not inherit, Robert and Cora would certainly want to try again for an heir.

For whatever reason Mary’s birth signaled an end to his aberration, in his mind at least. Now he realized he was nothing more than a damnable queer fetish to be used by the Earl and Countess. Becoming a plaything, an aristocratic fuck toy, had ended his momentary lapse in drinking and sent him back to the bottle.

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“You sent for me, milady?” Charles asked upon entering the morning room.

“Yes. I’m afraid Lord Grantham and I received a spot of bad news yesterday. Nothing too horrid thankfully.” She added seeing the alarmed look on his face. “Some hooligan smashed one of the windows at Crawley Cottage.”

“Crawley Cottage?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“It belonged to his lordship’s great aunt. She was notoriously private and used it as sort of a seaside getaway from all the servants; or with one of the servants from what I understand.” She gave him a smile and a wink that sent a wave of anxiety through his body. “From what Mama told me, it sounds so much like Newport that I’d love to take some time to relax there and destress before we start trying for another heir.” _We?_ “Therefore, I’d like it if you and Mrs. Hughes could see to the repair and open the house.”

“_Just_ Mrs. Hughes and I? What about the running of Downton? And surely we would need extra maids and footmen to open the house.”

“Things are calm right now and Crawley Cottage is very much a cottage, no more than a few rooms. It doesn’t even have servants’ quarters so you and Mrs. Hughes will be allowed to use the cottage bedrooms instead of staying at an inn.”

“Thank you, milady.” He replied purely out of habit, but his mind was racing. Could he really subject himself to this type of lifestyle? Perhaps the time had come for him to leave Downton, but that would mean leaving Mrs. Hughes, and something inside him kept yearning for her. It was a preposterous notion to think she’d ever want him back, a deviant drunkard and a thief to boot. She was too pure and he could never match her, she expected – no deserved – better than what he could give. Either way, the rules of service demanded they go on this trip that would most certainly shape his future.

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He held both their valise when the train came to a halt at Whitby station. A heavy mist hung in the air rich with the smell of ocean water and the wind was strong enough to whip his hat off his head. Thankfully Mrs. Hughes chased it down for him.

“Either you hand me my bag, or I’ll hold on to your hat while till we get inside.”

“You take the hat. I’ll not have you off balance and hurting yourself in this weather.” It was an easy argument to win that made him look the gentleman even though he’d been drunk since before they got on the train and would need the counterbalance to his own valise to keep him upright.

She looked at him with a wry smile, deciding not to argue with him over who would carry the luggage and found a station attendant whom she could ask for directions.

Ten minutes later they stood outside Crawley Cottage. “Her ladyship was right; this cottage is absolutely miniscule.”

Crawley Cottage was in fact tiny for a family like the Crawley’s. While it was a home Charles never himself could afford, it was gorgeous and homey with its white brick exterior, vaulted ceilings, witches caps and stone shield above the door. Crawley Cottage was also sure to boast an excellent view of the ocean being so close to the water that it had its own private beach entrance. It would make a fine home for someone of the middle class to boast over had it not belonged to the family.

It was not much warmer inside Crawley Cottage than it was outside in the wet and windy weather. While he was warmed by the flask in his pocket, she rubbed her arms and got to work bustling about the house. He set their bags down in the parlor and went out to the garden. It had been a long shot, but there was no wood in the woodshed for a fire and now he’d have to brave the weather again to buy coal.

When he returned with the coal, he was surprised to see how much progress Mrs. Hughes had made. The cottage was sparsely decorated with few statues and paintings, and every bit of furniture had been covered with a cloth. The cottage hadn’t even had electricity installed, so there were no lamps or chandeliers to be dusted. Remembering what the countess had said about bringing a single servant here made him wonder if the house was left this way intentionally so it could be opened and closed quickly by one man. He removed his coat and quickly got a fire going to keep her warm, when he proceeded to help Mrs. Hughes unroll a small Persian rug when she stopped him. “You should go inquire about the window. The fire won’t make a bit of difference with a gaping hole in the house.” He sighed, knowing she was right, but not wanting to don his wet coat again.

Charles walked the streets of Whitby with a basket of chips, trying to sober a bit before he found a shop. His stomach protested, but the cold air against his warm face was a constant reminder that he shouldn’t make a deal looking like a total drunk even though he probably smelled like one. When he felt surer of his appearance, he stopped inside a small construction business.

“Wot canneh do fer yeh mate?” The chipper young man’s words grated on his ears.

“I have a broken window that needs replacing at Crawley Cottage, and I need it done quickly.”

“Crolly Cott’ege!” The lad exclaimed “I’d be chuffed t’bits to work in tha ouse.”

Vernacular aside, Charles was pleased to hear someone willing to please the family, not enough people did in his opinion even though they were unaware. They continued their jovial conversation, drew up some paperwork and promised to meet at the cottage in an hour.

On his way back, Charles sipped from his flask to postpone his impending headache and thought about the task he and Elsie had been given. Cora had hinted Crawley Cottage was used for frivolities in the past and would be used in that manner again in the new future. The cottage seemed simple enough for one person to open in a day or so and they had been given three to do so; and surely it would have been safer to send Charles alone since he was the only one who knew what they liked. Unless… _They couldn’t be expecting Elsie to participate, could they?_ He began to panic again and took another drink from his flask. _Elsie was too honorable a woman to participate in their activities; and just how many of the staff are they expecting to join? Was Downton to become a common whorehouse under Robert?_ He raged silently inside his head at the idea of having to work with Elsie in such a capacity. But still… if she did agree to this, he could have her. Creamy white skin and a full bosom waiting to be devoured by his mouth. An unsated and pure body yearning for his touch, his tongue, his cock. He could never allow Robert to touch her, she was for him alone.

Back at Crawley Cottage he was in no state to enter, so headed back to the empty woodshed to take care of the stirring in his trousers. It was dark and dusty and smelled heavily of mold and salt, this is what he had been reduced to as he unbuttoned his trousers to tug on his semi-erect cock. He tried to imagine what Elsie would look like under her dress, if she had any freckles in naughty areas and if she would let him love her the way men and women were meant to love. He would go down on one knee before her and pleasure her with his mouth, drinking in the sweet nectar he had only scented so many times before. Would she shiver under his touch and hold on to him through the night? Would she be bold and return the favor, exploring his body and marvel at his form? Charles slammed a fist against the wall, irate with himself as he tucked his softened erection back into his trousers. _I’m so pathetic a drunk, I can’t even do this correctly now._

The rest of the day hadn’t gone as well as expected. Mrs. Hughes had found some mildew in the house that needed bleaching and Ambrose, the lad he had spoken with earlier, had found a large patch of dry rot in the windowsill when he came to inspect the cottage window. It would take him at least two days to fix the problem; till then, he and Elsie would have to make do in the drafty house.

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The first day he played maid and helped her gussy up the cottage. Despite his growling stomach, he declined her invitation for dinner at the local pub. It warmed his heart a touch when she fussed over his baggy clothing and promised to bring him back something to eat. It ended up being fish and chips and mushy peas which went cold and untouched by bedtime. Elsie prepared the double beds in typical Scottish fashion, piled high with thick blankets that reached your nose and heated with a warming pan. It had been enough to drive out most of the cold but wasn’t quite warm enough for a single person.

The next morning he donned as much white as he could and began scrubbing away mildew with bleach and water. It was humble work for a butler that only got colder when the window was removed and taken away. Although the hole had been boarded up, the house still leaked heat at a furious rate. By the time the two of them finished cleaning away the mildew it was time for lunch. Mrs. Hughes opted for the pub again, and again he refused her invitation. He spent his time polishing the few bits of silver in the cottage and catching up on his drinking which had almost ended the bottle he’d packed.

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When she got back from her lunch, he was asleep at the table. Streaks of polish marked the table and the candlestick holders were set aside, still tarnished with gobs of polish in every crevice. The good thing about caring for drunks is you could treat them like children. Elise had no issues retrieving the flask from his pocket and what was left of his stash was easy to find after a quick rummage through his room. Down the drain the whiskey went. He would be furious with her when he woke up for sure, she might even get sacked for this, but it would be worth it if a good man returned.

Later on she woke him with a rough shake and a Beechams coffee.

“It’s time for supper Mr. Carson and I’d very much appreciate it if you would escort me this time. I’d have thought a man such as yourself would find it highly improper to let a lady dine alone at a pub.” Her tone was terse leaving no room for arguments.

Elsie knew she had him cornered when he grumbled from his seat instead of weaseling his way out of eating yet again. He sipped at the proffered coffee and grimaced at the chalky aftertaste – he daren’t protest when she glared at him worse than a mother angered by her misbehaved child. When his coffee was finished, she ordered he dress for the evening and fix his appearance to befit a member of service. Thirty minutes later Charles was ready to escort her out, clean shaven with fresh pomade in his hair and even wearing her favorite three-piece suit. She wasn’t sure if it was her or if he had finally hit rock bottom, but she was grateful he was cooperating nonetheless.

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The pub was loud and packed with regulars when they walked through the door. Three seats had just opened up at the bar and they rushed over before another group could claim it. Charles ordered them steak and kidney pies, he took and ale and she took tea.

“Back again, Mrs. Hughes?” A handsome man not much younger than Charles sat down in the empty seat next to Elsie and ordered a steak and kidney pie and an ale for himself.

“Mr. Evans! What luck finding you here two nights straight. Charlie, I’d like you to meet Arthur Evans. Mr. Evans, this is Charles Carson, the butler at Downton Abbey.”

The men exchanged pleasantries before Elsie went back to being the sole focus of Mr. Evans. For two hours the two flirted and drank making Charles feel like a third wheel by the time their meals were served. His blood boiled while another man captured the attention of the woman, he loved right in front of her and she did nothing to discourage him. _Why had he even agreed to dinner at the pub? His head was spinning, he wasn’t hungry, and Elsie must have thrown out all his whiskey while he was passed out on the table. What’s worse was he couldn’t bring up the issue with her without addressing the fact that he was drinking too much. Their mutual silent agreement had been to proceed as if nothing was out of sorts as long as work was getting done._

Mrs. Hughes excused herself to powder her nose and the two men sat in silence for a moment. Charles took advantage of her momentary absence to order a double scotch and slammed it back. Mr. Evans hesitated a moment before excusing himself to the water closet. For all Charles cared Mr. Evans could fall in with the rest of the shit and it would be just dandy with him. He held the empty glass and looked at the remnants of the amber liquid in the dim light, wondering if he had enough time to flag down the barman for another when he heard her voice cut through the clamor.

“I said **NO** Mr. Evans, now please let me go!” Charles spun around in his seat in time to see Mr. Evans kissing a struggling Elsie.

“It’s only a bit of fun before you leave to that big house of yours. I promise I’ll be more exciting than that tosspot you showed up with.” One hand moved to roughly grab her breast as he nipped aggressively just behind her ear.

Feeling more sober than he was, Charles got up from his stool and crossed the floor shoving people out of his way. His rage peaked when the mans hand moved down for a handful of her rear to prevent Elsie from backing away. Charles grabbed Mr. Evans with both hands and threw the man off Elsie.

“Oi! What the hell you think you’re doing?” He barked, clearly annoyed his good time had been ruined.

“The lady said **NO**, now drag your sorry arse home.”

Charles turned to check on Elsie when Mr. Evans came from the side and smashed a beer stein into Charles’ face. Broken glass went flying and he felt shards cut through his face and into his shoulder. The beer stung his eyes and he barely dodged another punch with the mug’s remnants. Taking advantage of the proximity, Charles grabbed Mr. Evans by the shirt and punched him straight in the nose resulting in a horrific crunching noise. Somewhere in the background he could hear Elsie pleading with him to stop as he hammered the man’s face into a bloody pulp. A knee came up and met him in the groin, followed by several punches to the stomach. By now the area around them had cleared and the crowd was egging them on and placing bets. Charles managed to back Mr. Evans off with a sharp jab to the ribs. The atmosphere was charged and Charles could feel his heart beating painfully fast inside his chest. His breathing was also rapid and he was beginning to feel extremely dizzy; he knew there wasn’t much keeping him going at this point. If he wanted to leave with his life, he had to find a way out of this place soon. He didn’t have much time to think before Mr. Evans charged at him again, only this time Charles couldn’t get out of the way quick enough. Mr. Evans collided with his leg, sending Charles toppling backwards to the ground and Mr. Evans headfirst into a table, knocking him out cold. The last thing Charles remembered was grabbing Elsie by the hand and pulling her out of the pub.

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His body ached all over when he finally came to. The blue-blackness of night filled the sky and he was absolutely freezing in his bed with his naked chest exposed to the damp night air. Sticky eyes found Mrs. Hughes asleep in a wingback, with a shawl hanging from her shoulders, a wash basin at her feet and a taper that’s burnt low on the table next to her. Memories of the pub came flooding back to him, causing him to groan loud enough to wake Mrs. Hughes.

“Mr. Carson are you alright? Here, drink some water.” She removes a spoon from a glass on the bedside table and helps him sit up to drink. The movement pulls at his wounds which have been bandaged.

“I’ve had to sew a few of your wounds shut with a heated needle and been spooning you water.” It’s a way to fill the awkward silence as he sips from the glass so as not to roil his insides. “You were a brave man to defend me the way you did, but I don’t want you risking your health for me ever again.”

“A few scrapes are worthy when defending a lady.” She blushes at his words “But are you okay? That dastard didn’t hurt you, did he?” He doesn’t mean to swear, but finds it fitting for the man in question.

She doesn’t flinch and wraps the shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I daresay he did more damage to you than me.”

He shifts under the covers and realizes for the first time that it is not only his shirt Elsie has removed.

“Mrs. Hughes,” he asks uncomfortably “can I ask what you have done with my clothing?”

“I’m afraid your shirt, waist coat and jacket are ready for the scrap heap. Your trousers are soaking in the tub, they’re full of blood, but with a bit of luck and some hydrogen peroxide they’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s understandable.” He says still uncomfortably “But my drawers have also been removed. I shouldn’t have to lecture you on the impropriety of someth..”

“Impropriety?!” she cuts him off with a flabbergasted look “That’s rich coming from a man who spends half his nights sleeping with my knickers plastered to his face.”

Now Charles is at a loss for words as he sputters out nonsense. How had she known about the stolen undergarment let alone what he was doing with it? Unless… “It’s been you visiting me at night, doing.. things to me. Elsie, how could you do that?” Confusion sweeps his throbbing head as she is now the one failing to come up with an explanation for her misdeeds. “I don’t know.. I suppose I got one look and the desire to see more was stronger than I cared to admit.” She finally manages to get out “But you shouldn’t have been in there at that time Charlie Carson.” Elsie jabs a cold finger into his chest, now going on the offence. “That was the time slated for the women to bathe.”

He grabs her by the wrist angrily, anger that washes away when he feels how cold her skin is compared to his. “You’re frozen.” _She must be turning blue._ Tender care emanating from his voice. He scoots deeper into the double bed and pushes down the covers as he pulls her into the bed with him.

“Mr. Carson, if you were concerned about impropriety earlier…” but he silences her with a solemn look.

“Take off your shoes, I won’t ever hurt you. This cottage is too cold to sleep alone.”

She cautiously relents, unbuckles her shoes and blows out the taper before crawling under the covers to face him, he supposes he must be quite a sight with his face cut up and bandages across his forehead and shoulder. After a few moments he is surprised when Elsie traces the line of one of his shallower wounds that had already scabbed over.

“Thank you for saving me Charlie.” Her voice is so quiet he almost misses it “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there with me tonight.” She moves in a bit closer and presses a kiss to his uninjured cheek that feels like heaven itself. Her hand rests on his chest and he moves a wary hand to her waist, and they stare at one another in the moonlight. The air around them is palpitating with tension and her breathing is ragged, he can’t help but take the next step and kiss her on the lips. His risk is rewarded when she melts into the kiss and rakes her nails down his chest and around to his back. Their bodies press together as best they can when a corset is involved and his arousal is evident against her. When they finally pull away for air, her lips are wet and plump and there’s a sultry look in her eye.

“Are you sure you want this?” His tone is sure and even, but there is a smokey rumble to it that makes her shiver. “I am a broken man.”

Elsie pauses the exploration of his skin and gives his question serious consideration. Without a word, she leaves the bed and begins unbuttoning the many tiny buttons down the front of her dress. He rolls onto his good side, stands and walks around the bed to help her undress.

“There’s no need to strain yourself helping me. If you are a broken man, then I am most certainly a broken woman.”

“None of us are beyond saving.” he echoes back her words to her and pulls her in for another kiss.

Charles pushes the dress from her shoulders and watches as it pools around her feet. It is a sight he has never seen before, a **real **woman undressing. Cora had always been bare beneath her nightgown or remained dressed while they did what they did. This was more sensual, more natural. A woman giving herself to a man out of love, not lust.

He watched with amazement as she untied her slip and let it join her dress on the floor. At her request, he unclasped her stocking from their garters and loosened the laces of her corset. Every inch of her milky skin was softer than the next as he kissed a trail down her legs removing her stockings. Elsie took two steps back for the next layer of clothing to come back, the one that had him salivating. She pushed the busk together and sighed in relief as her figure filled out.

“It’s a shame corsets conceal a woman’s natural beauty.” He whispered in her ear. Her breast were supple and generous beneath his touch and nipples hardened when he kissed them through her chemise. He wasn’t sure if she was trembling from his actions or shivering from the cold, but catching their death wasn’t on his itinerary tonight. Charles drew her back into the still warm bed and explored the dips and curves of her body. A kiss to her collar bone earned him a soft mewling sound that sounded sweeter than any song he’d ever heard. His rough hands worked their way beneath her chemise, and she helped him to rid her of the soft undergarment. Elsie blushed and covered her breast, purely out of habit by now he was sure. Still, he rubbed soft circles on her shoulder to comfort her, reassure her that things would only happen if she wanted him. It took only moments for her to lower her arms and lock him in another kiss. She carded her hands through his hair as he kissed his way back down her body. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and lapped at it making her moan in anticipation, the other he maneuvered his arm as best he could to grope the now free breast. He switched to lavish attention to the other breast.

“Mo ghaol.” He thought he heard her whisper and made a mental note to ask about it later.

Fully intending to drag out their moment together as long as possible, he nuzzled the valley between her breasts and looked up at her with shining eyes. He hadn’t had many women in his life. Alice Neal had been unenthusiastic. The one time he had her, she barely let him know she knew he was there. Cora had been fun, for a quick romp, but not what he wanted. Cora was more into fucking, not making love. And now he has Elsie, a woman who keeps him on even footing, whom he feels is always on his side and now willingly lies with him, choosing him as her equal.

His weight on his shoulder pains him as he continues his journey beneath the covers to her center, but to him it is worth it to hear Elsie giggle beneath him as he tongues her navel. Moving his attention to her thighs, he peppers the inside with fluttering little kisses that makes her squeal and lift the covers to watch him slowly move up to her cherished center. She is wearing the same satiny, white knickers with the lace and frills. Her scent is strong coming through the damp spot where he teases her with her nose, much stronger than the pair he stows away. It’s a sweet scent, similar to that of ripened fruit, and he all but tears the small garment off her to reach her treasured spot. Lips brush over and around coating him in her essence as if it were a fine aftershave and she bears down on him to ask for more. It’s something he happily obliges to when his tongue finally delves between her lips to taste what he has only had hints of before. Sounds of relief escape his woman and her legs wrap around him drawing him nearer, and he is unable to pry his lips from hers. He attacks her with his tongue, probing in, out and around her velvety core so that when she finally trembles and cries out, he is drinking from her greedily as if every drop were too precious a nectar to waste. Determined to hear her cry out his name again, he circles the little nub that makes her jump and probes her depth, first with one finger then two. During his ministrations, he strokes a certain area that causes her to swear loudly and grab him roughly by the hair. A devious smile crosses his lips that he knows she can feel against her skin. He uses his good arm to pin down her hips and tries to find the spot that made her unladylike. When he does, she curses him with a thick brogue and slips into the sexiest stream of Gaelic he has ever heard. It isn’t long before she comes a second time and she is pulling him back to her.

Above the covers Elsie is flushed and panting and seems to be a very happy lady in his eyes. The sheets she had tucked so tightly are a rumpled mess around her and her hair, which she had left up, is coming out from their pins. His fingers are glistening with her juices in the moonlight which he licks clean for her to see. One by one he pulls the pins from her hair letting it fall to its natural state and uses his fingers to comb out her locks; it’s another tender moment he’s never experienced before. When his hips are between her legs, he kisses her again, only to feel her stiffen beneath him.

“Is anything wrong love?” She is refusing to look him in the eyes, and he wonders what he has done to offend her.

Elsie fidgets a bit with his bandages and perhaps she looks ashamed, ashamed of her decision to lie with a wretch like him. “It’s nothing Charlie. I just…” he implores for more “I just always thought _some things_ were meant for marriage.”

He is hurt, he will not tell himself otherwise as he tries to hold back the tears. “I’m afraid my deepest apologies cannot fix the damage I’ve inflicted upon you. I deeply regret tempting you down this road..”

She cuts him off “Charlie, I have no regrets about what we’ve done so far. I’m just not comfortable being together fully. But perhaps…” she reaches down and grabs his swollen member “I can show you what I’ve been doing to you all those nights. And maybe a little more.”

They share a naughty laugh as he rolls them over and Elsie begins her repayment. She kisses every scrape and wound, naming him her champion, her hero, and her strong brave man. Palms rove over his arms and chest, delighting in the feel of his muscles and for once Charles is proud of the fact that he never was a slim man. He put on weight easily and most of what he lost his mother had called his baby fat. A trail of kisses down his abdomen is abandoned momentarily to suck on his finger, the very one that was in her not so long ago. When she returns, extra attention is given to the line of hair that runs from his navel to his groin. Finally she is there, his cock stands proudly upright much like its owner, who makes an odd gurgling noise when Elsie tucks her hair behind her ears and kisses the head. Gripping the base, she runs her thumb across a vein. “I never imagined a man’s skin to be soft here.” It’s an offhanded question he decided deserves a saucy response. “What did you imagine they felt like?” She doesn’t miss a beat. “On the right man, my undoing.” Elsie leans forward and sucks the head into her mouth. Her tongue rolls around the sensitive flesh occasionally teasing his slit and her hand firmly strokes along in unison. His large hands weave their way into her hair, fingering the silky locks of the woman who is treating his body like a shrine. Every now and then she teases him by sucking lower till eventually luscious gagging noises are all he hears when all of him is in her mouth. Sweat is forming everywhere on his body, even his ankles are wet as he feels the familiar tightening in his groin.

“Elsie, Elsie sweetheart.” She looks up and moans a response. A hand is between her legs and it’s a miracle he doesn’t come right there. “I need something, but I need you to trust me.” Her mouth lets go of his cock and brushes away thin line of saliva connecting him and her. “What else does my man need from me?” she purrs seductively.

He beckons her back up to him where he once again rolls them over. Once again, their hips are aligned and his cock lays along the length of her opening. When she understands, she crosses her legs around his backside and adjusts the angle of her hips slightly. Their lips meet again, and her lips and tongue are salty with his essence as he grinds his cock against her slick folds. Her nails dig into the skin of his back and his teeth nip at her neck as they lose themselves in their almost union. For the third time that night Elsie shudders with delight and captures his lip between her teeth. The coppery taste of blood mixes in with taste of him and her and he comes hard between them.

She clings on to him as their bodies return to normal and he rests his forehead on hers, whispering little words of love. When he mentions cleaning up, she protests a bit before caving in and allowing them to separate long enough for her to grab the flannel from the wash basin. He watches as she takes loving care to wipe around his penis and beneath the foreskin that she tenderly replaces when he is clean. He takes the cloth from her to clean her sex before wiping his seed from both of their abdomens. The flannel is deposited back in the basin and they return to each other’s arms once again to fall into blissful slumber.

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Charles and Elsie are awakened by the sounds of men shouting outside, it is well into morning and Ambrose will arrive any moment to finish repairing the window. The two quickly dress and Elsie instructs him to leave his upper half bare so she can change his bandages after she sets her hair. Ambrose arrives while Elsie is in her room with a brush and Charles is in the kitchen attempting to cook breakfast in trousers and a dressing gown. He deflects questions about his bandages and lets the lad get started on the window. Sausages, tomatoes and eggs are what he is craving now that his appetite is coming back, but there was little in the cupboards so it’s porridge again with some jam found in the larder. Elsie bustles in with fresh bandages and clothing and takes over at the stove. When breakfast is finished, she cuts him out of the bloody bandages, and he steels his jaw while she washes his wounds. She helps him to dress in a shirt and found cardigan suggesting it would be more forgiving on his shoulder. The rest of the day is filled with idle conversation as they finish tidying up the cottage which begins to warm once Ambrose has finished with the window.

They stand in the parlor to admire their work. “It is quite the clever cottage now that it’s all put together.” He is unaware that her mind has slipped back to their conversation about going another way all those months ago when Lillian had been their ward and perhaps it’s time to talk about it again. “Whitby isn’t quite my cup of tea, but…” she pauses knowing everything will change between them, for better or worse “what do you think about running away with me Charles? We could make a real go at it you and I. A lovely flat above a shop might not have all the style and show of life at Downton, but we could learn to love each other and fill our home with children.” He pauses to think about a life away from Downton. A wife and children were always an ideal part of his life, he could imagine little versions of him and Elsie running around the garden while she prepared dinner and he read the paper on his day off. Still, there would always be the knowledge of Mary, the silent promise he made to protect her, and he knew he couldn’t put her aside and let his own feelings get in the way again.

“Think about what you are saying Elsie. You want us to leave good, respectable careers we have both worked hard to get.” he wraps his arms around her waist and a silent tear rolls down her cheek “We have too much in store for us where we are. In a perfect world we could have it all, our jobs and each other; and one day we might! I promise you, one day we will be together when everything is as it should be.” He kisses her on the top of the head and waits for her to regain her composure. They still have time to take to catch the train to Downton and have dinner with the staff if they hurry. After last night neither of them is eager for a meal out and neither wants to spend more time alone in this cottage entertaining ideas that could never be.

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The ride back had been quiet with his rejection of elopement casting a shadow between them. If they had met even a year ago, they might be married with one of their own on the way by now and he wouldn’t have to struggle with the decision to leave his only child. He wants so bad to explain this to Elsie, but he doesn’t think he could ever tell her the truth. He can only hope things settle between them and they can rekindle their magic later.

Walking up the gravel driveway they run into Doctor Clarkson who is looking pleased as punch.

“Everything alright Doctor?” he greets the man with a tip of the hat.

“Much better than you are I say. What on earth has happened to you Mr. Carson?”

They briefly explain what happened and decline his invitation for a look over. ‘Mrs. Hughes is the only nurse for me.’ Charles says to get a laugh from the man and a subtle smile from Elsie. _There may be hope for the two of us yet if she’s already back on my side._

The servant’s hall is lively, and Mr. Watson is pounding out a raucous tune the piano before dinner is served. “Welcome back Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes! Her ladyship is in the family way again!” A footman hands them each a glass of wine which Charles puts down on the table. Elise raises a questioning eyebrow and he decides there is enough noise to take a chance.

“I’m not giving it up entirely, but you won’t have to worry about me being chock-a-block every day. From now on, I only drink with you.” He can tell she wants to hug him, maybe even kiss him, but she holds back from scandalous behavior. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will announce a job well done and our safe arrival upstairs.”

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Cora is alone in the Great Hall when he congratulates her on her most recent news, but there is one question weighing heavily on his mind.

“Not to be impertinent milady, but how on earth did you manage to pull this off alone?”

“Well I wasn’t exactly alone Carson.” She says with a cheeky wink “Lord Grantham and I are figuring each other out and I don’t think we will be needing any _extra_ services again.”

A broad grin splays across his lips and Charles is relieved he may never have to bring himself down to that level again. He excuses himself before he can make a total fool of himself before the countess and rejoins the staff downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Apologies for the lack of accurate terminology on describing Crawley Cottage. For whatever reason all the information I’ve acquired about architecture has escaped me. This is kinda what I thought Crawley Cottage would look like if the whole thing were one residence.  
https://www.google.com/maps/@54.4889401,-0.6158508,3a,75y,106.81h,97.97t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s6GGaquoQyI23riXaIUiMeQ!2e0!7i13312!8i6656  
*Also apologies on the horrible attempt at the Yorkshire accent, I used the internet for reference.


	12. Chapter 12

**34 Years Later**

“We don’t see you often downstairs for breakfast.” The voice was bright and much too poppy for mornings.

“Papa, Tom and I are walking down to Yew Tree to discuss the pigs with Mr. Drewe, then Tom and I will take up the task of introducing Papa to more modern farming techniques. We can get an early start on the day if I dress and come down to eat.” Lady Mary responded to her cousin Rose as she accepted a plate from the butler and loaded it with eggs, potatoes and sausage.

The family carried on conversing about morning plans, but standing next to the buffet, Charles Carson was lost in his thoughts as he watched the eldest Crawley daughter. _What a gorgeous young woman she has grown to become. Was it really so long ago that she visited him in his pantry, looking for sweets and a cuddle? It must be, because since those days she had married, birthed her own child and heir, mourned a husband, and taken up the responsibilities of Downton with a fierce determination._ Fatherly pride overtook his emotions for a moment, and he could feel tears gathering at his lashes, threatening to fall. Like a proper Englishman, he kept his upper lip stiff and his emotions in check. Mary had gotten everything right, and now he had a promise to keep.

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“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you attractive?” he asked closing the door to their modest seaside hotel room.

“It’s been thirty-four years Charlie. My body isn’t where it used to be.” She hands him her hat and coat to hang.

“Neither is mine.” He adds, patting his belly for good measure. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he too was feeling self-conscious about showing off his aged body. The years had been kinder to Elsie, he thought, but if she was worried about this then he’d have to be confident enough for both of them.

They are alone together for the first time in years, more so than they were at Downton when their evening chats were frequently interrupted by a member of staff.

“I’ll never understand what took you so long to ask. I often wondered if your feeling about me had changed or if you were ashamed of what we did.” Elsie bristles as she heads to the window to see their view.

“I could never be ashamed of what we did, and I never stopped loving you be it from afar. Times were different back then, Elsie. We couldn’t just up and leave our jobs with no money or no plans.” Their little room is nestled above a sweets shop and offers a stunning view of the ocean with the lighthouse off in the distance. “I couldn’t leave my family.” He adds quietly as he wraps his arms around his wife, not knowing if it was the right thing to say. Starting their wedding night with an argument leading to an explanation of why he couldn’t leave Mary wasn’t his intention – although it has been weighing on his mind lately.

Elsie sighs, turns around in his embrace and cuddles in close to his warmth. “I guess you couldn’t be my man if I didn’t let you do things the proper way. Besides, you’re more than worth the wait.”

“Is that so, Mrs. Carson?”

“I hope to find out very soon, Mr. Carson.”

He can’t help but to let out a predatory growl as he bends down to claim her lips with his own. When she relaxes against his form, his worries of how they will look flee his mind. Right now, they are simply two people deeply in love, looking to make up for lost time. His hand slips to her side and briefly registers that something is different about the way her body feels beneath her dress. Her kisses become more urgent, more primal, and Elsie begins clawing at his clothing desperate to feel what he has denied her for so long. Her hand moves to his groin which eagerly begins to swell at her touch, and he silently thanks every deity there will be no need for the cock ring he brought along should his body fail him on the most important night of his life.

Several minutes of kissing and fondling had passed and Charles was growing hot beneath his collar. It was quite evident that he would have to swallow his pride and begin disrobing first. The jacket and waistcoat fell to the floor easily enough and Elsie slid his tie from its knot. With his braces hanging at his sides he works at his shirt buttons with shaky hands. Last time a woman had seen him naked, _she_ had seen him naked, he had been broad shouldered, muscled and she delighted in the masculine feel of his body. Would she balk when he now revealed a soft body with a pot belly and a manhood that hung low?

For Elsie, it didn’t seem to matter in the slightest. She kissed the exposed skin, ran her hands down his stomach and around his back to hold him tight without the slightest cringe. He held his breath when she reached for his trousers again to undo the button and zip and he didn’t let it out till she expressed her appreciation. “This is a nice surprise. Just when I thought I knew everything about my man, he changes things up and cuts a fine figure.” Gone are the knee-length flannel drawers that tied at the waist. Today he has made the effort to modernize for her and switched to boxers with a snazzy elastic waistband she can slip right off him.

To be loved for who he was, despite the packaging, was an intoxicating feeling and now it was time she felt the same. He pressed kisses along her jaw to the nape of her neck and undid the buttons that ran down the back of her dress and caressed the skin that peeked out from beneath. Skin that was still soft but, much like his own, was not as taught as it was so many years ago. When the last button came undone, he tugged at her sleeves till the dress fell from her shoulders to join his clothing on the floor. Elsie has modernized for him too, clad in a rayon peach colored corset with elastic side panels and matching elastic knickers. What shocked him most was the sheer, nude colored stockings that she’d powdered till they were barely visible to the naked eye. It was an alluring sight, clothing that was detectable only when you were intimately close, how could one expect that?

“You look like one of those French models in the catalogues.” He whispers softly with a hungry look taking over his eyes. Before she can say a word against it, he is on her again, lifting and pinning her roughly against the wall. Legs wrap instinctually around his waist and while aggressively kneading her bottom, he grinds his erection against her sex. The air around them is thick and heavy with the sounds of their panting and moaning, her fingers scrape at every inch of available skin and he nips his way down her neck to the promising swell of her breasts. Soon it is not enough for either of them.

“Charlie… Charlie… I need you… Don’t make me wait any longer.” The words barely register in his foggy, lust filled mind, but he finds the words to agree. “Bed.”

He lets her down and pulls her to the bed where he sits with her straddling his lap. They work together to rid her of her knickers and Elsie unbuttons the fly of his boxers to pull him through and teases the head of his cock along her opening. _She is a cruel mistress_ is all he can think as she keeps him so close yet so away from the treasure he has dreamed about for decades. Without thinking, he grips her roughly by the hips and brings her down to finally join them. Elsie screams and bites down where his neck meets his shoulder and pulls at his hair. She is hot and wet and impossibly tight around him, and though he hears sniffling, she lifts her hips and brings them down again. Once again, the room is filled with the sounds of their love and Charles lies back to look at their union. His eyes flick back and forth between the beautifully flushed face of his wife to the space between their legs where he watches his cock repeatedly disappear into her. Pulling her down to him, he rolls them over with a kiss and begins driving into her with all the intensity he can muster. Eventually he can no longer hold back and slams into her shooting thick, heavy ropes deep inside.

When he rolls off her, he is lightheaded and a tingling sensation takes over his body that causes his arms and legs to feel numb. It’s something he has never felt in the nearly 70 years he has been alive, and he is barely aware that his entire body is shaking. The last coherent action he has is to pull Elsie close before he drifts off to a peaceful slumber.

When he wakes it is to the sight of Elsie playing with his silvery chest hair. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” She comments with a smirky grin. Charles smiles back and kisses her soundly on the lips, waking up next to her is something he will get used to very easily.

“What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long, maybe an hour at most.” Elsie sits up slightly and squints across the room “Looks like it’s about 5:30, just enough time for us to clean up and find some dinner. I assume you’re plenty hungry by now.” She is all smiles and he is glad to be the one to put them there.

He sits up next to her and takes stock, for though he surely feels different, he knows little has physically changed. There are traces of blood on his penis and some of it has smeared onto his boxers. Taking a good look at Elsie, he notices there are bruises forming along her neck and breasts and hips marking the areas where he has been a brute.

“I’ve harmed you.” Hurt evident in his voice which is now cracking.

“I’ve left some marks on you too.” She says tracing the red scratch marks that cover most of his upper body. “At least clothes will cover yours, I’ll need to start powdering my neck to cover these hickeys.”

“Hickeys?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s a new word I heard the maids using; means love bruise from what I gathered.”

“Elsie” he hesitates, but the question is gnawing at him and he knows it is something he should have asked before “had you ever…” Heavens this was hard to get out “Before me, was there ever…” he doesn’t finish his question, but luckily Elsie seems to know what was troubling him. “There’s been no one, Mr. Carson. You have the pleasure of being my one and only.”

“But surely even when Mr. Burns came to visit…”

“No, not even then. Although the thought did cross my mind since I’d long since given you up as a lost cause.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I suppose it’s because the two of us were still breathing, and I didn’t really want to be with a man I felt was inadequate.”

Charles’ chest puffs out with pride. He had been her first, she’d waited for him almost as long as he’d waited for her, and he was the only one for her in her eyes as she was to him.

“Still, I’ve treated you horribly for your wedding night. Let me make it up to you by running a bath?”

“It’s _our_ wedding night Charles, but I’ll still let you ready the bath nonetheless.” She replies cheekily.

He kisses her again and heads into the bathroom.

When the bath was filled and he has himself cleaned and tucked away, he calls for his wife to join him. She is still wearing her corset and has let down her hair letting it flows down her back in waves of dark red. He draws her in for another kiss and pulls at the laces of her corset when he feels her stiffen in her arms. Playing clueless is something he was never good at, but he senses what is bothering her and it is not something he wishes to brush under the rug.

“So now you’re going to get shy with me?”

“I didn’t know you were going to help me undress.” He’s known her long enough to know when she is lying through her teeth to avoid a topic.

“Elsie Carson, I married you. I love you. There is nothing you should have to hide from me, and nothing could make me regret wearing your ring.” Her eyes are misting, and he seals his ode with a tender kiss.

She lets him loosen and unclasp her corset to bare all to him. As he expected, her breasts hang lower than they once did and there is a small pooch to her small belly. None of her will be as firm or as supple as she was, but she is beautiful in his eyes.

“Oh my love.” He brings her back into his arms and kisses her fervently to erase any doubt of her grandeur Love is a splendid thing, he supposes.

Like a true gentleman, he helps her into the bath and soaps up the sponge. Both the water and the soap are scented with roses, a small gift he has bought for her alone. He takes one arm out of the water and runs the sponge across it; she is still conscious of her body, so he distracts her with dinner plans. Conversation flows naturally between them for a while he washes her other arm, back and her legs, they even laugh when she flicks water at him for kissing her foot. The tension doesn’t crawl back into the room until he is midway up her thighs. _Not this again._ All of a sudden, a brilliant idea pops into his head; or at least what he hopes is a brilliant idea. “Make way Mrs. Carson,” he stands to remove his boxers “your husband is coming in.” Charles climbs into the opposite end of the bath sending gallons of water splashing over the rim. His plan has worked as Elsie shrieks with laughter.

“Charlie! It’s a large tub, but there’s hardly enough room for two of us.”

“Hmmm” he pretends to think “I do believe this morning we promised to be one person, did we not? Besides, I should fix the error I made earlier.” He says leaning forward for a kiss.

She moans into his mouth when he strokes the inside of her thigh. He kisses away water droplets that lay on her bruised flesh and doesn’t stop till he has one pert nipple in his mouth. One hand comes up to fondle the other and his remaining hand circles the little nub he knows will help him. Soon she is writhing beneath him, sending more water sloshing over the rim and onto the floor. He pumps one finger in, then a second and strokes her walls till she is gripping the edge of the bath. “Mo Dhia, Teàrlach. Teàrlach!” What mo Dhia means, he hasn’t a clue, but he knows she has unmistakably come with his name on her lips.

While he waits for her to come down from her high, he washes himself quickly not caring about the scent. They are husband and wife now, and if he smells the same way she does, it is only because they have enjoyed togetherness like this.

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When they arrive home, the servant’s hall is decorated and there is wine for everyone including the family who have ventured down to celebrate their return. Mrs. Patmore has made enough food to feed an army and the record player goes all night with nary a stop. As things begin to die down the staff begin to settle down and it is time for Charles and Elsie to take their leave and explore their new cottage. “I just want to go and check my room. Make sure they've taken everything.” He says to Elsie “Right you are.”

A melancholy feeling takes over him as he walks down the hallway of the men’s rooms. It is cold and, oddly enough, after his many years of service he doesn’t feel as if he belongs in this space anymore. The door to his old bedroom creaks when it opens and sure enough, the drawer of his nightstand sticks out ever so slightly. Relieved no one had gotten curious and tried to fix it, he pulls out the drawer and retrieves the stolen pair of knickers. The smell of her had dissipated long ago, but he never stopped using them as a source of comfort when the lonely nights felt lonelier than usual. He pockets the knickers and wonders how she will react when he shows them to her tonight. When he closes the door for the final time, he takes the slip of paper with **Mr. Carson** written on it from the door and heads down the stairs back to his wife.

**Author's Note:**

> *The Art of Begetting Handsome Children- A book written in 1860 that believed a woman could only get preggers if both parties came at the same time and beautiful children would only come about if both people were really, really enjoying themselves.


End file.
